The Lion In Winter
by Elmethea
Summary: Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan had no idea what she was getting into when she agreed to accompany Luna to the Hog's Head. But then, being the daughter of the Italian ambassador was never easy.
1. The Trap

Fred and George snickered slightly. The twins were _supposed _to be in potions class, but then again, when were they ever where they were supposed to be?

"This is brilliant!" Fred breathed, fiddling with a pulley. The idea of the trap was to release thirty bottles of ink onto the passing Slytherin Quidditch team, who would most likely be passing through this corridor on the way to practice in...

"Fifteen minutes," George said, checking his watch and then tugging experimentally on a rope.

"Do you reckon it'll work?" Fred asked, but just then the tapestry at the end of the hall was pulled aside. A girl, about fourteen, with olive-toned skin, dark hair, and black eyes entered the corridor. She looked at the identical red-haired boys, then up at the trap they were setting up.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Fred started slightly at the exotic, lilting accent. He looked at his twin, who shrugged. Looking back, Fred saw that the girl was wearing the bronze and blue stripped tie of Ravenclaw.

"Ravenclaw's supporting Gryffindor this match, aren't they?" George asked.

"I reckon we can tell her," Fred nodded, then gestured the girl over. She had a book bag slung over one shoulder and a book under one arm. She was very pretty, Fred thought, despite the fact that she was obviously three years younger than him.

"See, when the Slytherin team walks by here, completely unsuspecting," Fred explained to the girl. "They'll hit that trip wire." He pointed to a narrow thread stretched across the corridor at ankle level.

"And then 'splot'," George continued, jerking a thumb up at the precariously balanced ink bottles.

"Hmm," the girl considered, looking over the trap. "May I look?" The twins stepped aside and she bent down to pluck the string experimentally.

"Clever," she conceded at last, stepping carefully over the trip wire and moving down the corridor. At the far end, however, she turned back, swinging her thick wavy hair over one shoulder.

"I should let you know however, that according to my calculations," the girl said, hands on her hips. "That the parabolic curve the ink's path will undertake means that... well, basically it will miss the Slytherins. You should move the trip wire back a few feet. When you do that, though, you'll have to adjust the tension."

Fred and George stared at her as she walked straight through the door that was pretending to be a wall and disappeared.

"Who was that?" George blinked.

"Never seen her before," Fred replied, eyeing the offending trip wire. But that wasn't exactly true, now that he thought about it... "Wait a mo', isn't she on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team? She's chaser or something." George's eyes lit up as he placed her.

"Yeah, her last name's O'Reagan, isn't it?" George helped his twin undo the trap wire and string it up again further down the hall. He checked his watch. "Any minute now," he said. The twins took up their position at the end of the hall as students began to pour from their classes. Fred and George pretended to mind their own business, fingering a pack of Fainting Fancies.

Sure enough, the entire Slytherin Quidditch team walked down the hall on their way to practice. The shortest way to the pitch was the hallway the twins had rigged.

"Weasley," Clint snorted, intentionally running into George. The twins cast them dark looks and meaningfully held up the Skiving Snackboxes.

"You wouldn't dare," Clint sneered. "Everyone knows who's behind those." With that, the chaser pulled aside the tapestry and walked into the corridor, the rest of the team following. Fred and George waited for a few seconds, then gave identical, malicious grins as there was a sound of splattering and several shouts.

"Time to get out of here," George remarked, checking his watch.


	2. The Common Room

The twins entered the Great Hall for dinner. They walked down the length of the Gryffindor table to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat.

"Hello," Fred said, mussing up his younger brother's hair. Ron frowned and tried to flatten his bright red hair.

"What are you two so happy about?" Ron grumbled, slouching over his steak and kidney pie. Harry looked around the twins and grinned, elbowing Ron in the ribs.

"Check it out," he whispered. The twins turned around and saw the Slytherin team entering the Hall. They still had dark splotches of ink on their faces. Draco Malfoy's hair was practically black with the stuff.

"Why didn't they wash that stuff off?" Hermione asked curiously.

"George, you don't think we accidentally used permanent ink, do you?" Fred asked in mock horror. His twin pretended to rummage around in his bag and examined an empty ink bottle.

"Oops," he said carelessly.

"You didn't!" Harry laughed, along with several nearby Gryffindors.

"Guilty," George grinned. Then he stepped on Fred's toe and nodded in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. The pretty girl was sitting down about halfway along.

"See you later," Fred said, stealing a chocolate biscuit from Ron's plate. The twins sauntered over to where O'Reagan was sitting. A dreamy looking girl sat on her left and a tall girl with short brown hair sat across the table. There was also a girl with hair so blond it could have been Malfoy's, but she had a sweet round face and bright green eyes.

"Hey you," Fred said, squeezing between the blond girl and O'Reagan. George did the same on the other side.

"Hello," the girl smiled shyly, pulling a plate of mashed potatoes closer. "Everything go well?"

"Thanks to you," George grinned. "We managed to get five of them."

"Only five?" O'Reagan asked, a little disappointed. "My calculations must have been off." She turned to the tall girl across the table. "Alex, maximum point of two meters, mass of about one decagram, how much time?"

The girl scribbled on a loose piece of parchment, coming up with a number in a heartbeat.

"Damn," O'Reagan sighed. "I was a few seconds off."

"It was still brilliant," Fred assured her. "So, listen, we owe you one."

"Nonsense," the blond girl scoffed. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement. "The Slytherins had it coming."

"Morgan's right," O'Reagan shrugged.

"Well, can we at least have a name?" Fred insisted.

"Isabella," she smiled, shaking Fred's hand. "Isabella O'Reagan."

"I'm Fred, and this is George."

"That's Alex," Isabella nodded to the girl across the table. "She's the arithmancy genius. Over there is Morgan, for goodness sake, don't cross her. She's our potions whiz. And this is Luna."

"Hello," the dreamy-eyed girl said. She had dirty blond hair and her eyebrows were slightly raised, as though she was surprised about something.

"And what, pray tell, are you the master of?" Fred asked Isabella, who blushed.

"Transfiguration," Morgan answered for her. "She's brilliant."

"Well, she certainly gave the Slytherins a new look," George sniggered.

"So how did you know all that stuff about our trap?" Fred asked curiously.

"Oh, my father is a supplier of magical artifacts," Isabella told them. "He collects items used in wands or to be sold in apothecaries. He's brilliant at setting up traps. He caught my pets for me."

"He's never caught a crumpled-horn snorkak," Luna insisted. Alex and Morgan rolled their eyes and Isabella sighed.

"That's because he doesn't go trapping in, um, Sweden isn't it?" Luna nodded enthusiastically.

"You'd better go," Isabella told Fred under her breath. "Luna's just getting started." The twins took their cue to leave, ignoring the dark glowers coming from the Slytherin table.

Instead of talking about crumpled-horn snorkaks, however, Luna looked after the Weasley twins with wide-eyes.

"They seem... nice," she said, adding a gurdyroot to her pumpkin juice.

"I think they've got a soft spot for our Bella," Morgan giggled, giving Isabella a gentle kick under the table.

"They're too old for me," the dark-haired girl blushed.

"That didn't stop you last year with Jean-Pierre," Alex reminded her. Isabella loaded up her fork with potatoes. "You even let him take you to the Yule Ball." Taking careful aim, Isabella catapulted her potatoes. Alex, being Alex, yelped and tried to get her books out of harm's way.

Later that evening in the Ravenclaw common room, Alex, Morgan, Luna, and Isabella were completing their Defense Against the Dark Arts essays.

"Essays?" Alex grumbled, annoyed by what she considered an insult to her intelligence. "More like copying the book word for word!"

"I know," Isabella sighed. "This is perfectly useless! I don't care about the theory behind a jinx, I just want to perform one!"

A couple of boys had entered the common room. They snickered and pointed to where Luna was sitting on the pedestal of Rowena Ravenclaw's statue.

"Hey, Loony," one of the boys called. "What are you working on? Trying to find Nargels?"

Luna ignored him, so the boy came closer. He was a fifth year with brownish blond hair and a quick easy smile.

"Leave her alone," Isabella stood up, setting her Defensive Magical Theory textbook aside. The boy blinked, surprised to see her there, then he grinned and came closer.

"Bella!" He exclaimed, putting an arm around her shoulders genially. "Listen, there's a Hogsmede weekend coming up and I was wondering..."

"Aren't you dating Ginny Weasley?" Luna piped up. The boy glared at Luna, but Isabella shrugged the boy's arm off.

"You may call me Isabella, Michael," she hissed angrily. "Now, apologize to Luna."

"Come off it," Michael Corner said, trying to put his arm around her again. Isabella pulled out her wand in a flash and poked him in the stomach with it.

"Apologize to Luna," she snarled. The boy looked down at her wand with real fear. Once, last year, Isabella had turned Anthony Goldstein into a worm and threatened to release him in the garden.

"I'm sorry!" Michael gasped. "Okay, I'm sorry all right!"

"I'm sorry Luna," Isabella prompted. "And I won't call you Loony again."

"I'm sorry Luna and I won't call you Loony again," the boy babbled. Isabella put up her wand and went to collect her books.

"I'm going to the library," she announced. "Anyone want to come? And no,Michael, that was not an invitation extended toward you." The boy shut his mouth and stalked over to the armchairs by the fire.


	3. A Friend

"Isabella?" It was nighttime, and the Ravenclaw fourth year girls' dormitory had been quiet. Isabella was just falling asleep when the voice whispered.

"Yes?"

"Are you awake?" Isabella sighed and rolled to her side. Luna looked back at her, her silvery-blue eyes gleaming softly in the moonlight.

"What is it Luna?"

"That was very kind of you."

"Huh?" Isabella was not a night owl. Her cousin, Alessandro, claimed that Isabella was neither a night owl or a morning person. In truth, Isabella was infamous for always being sleepy.

"Earlier today. You didn't have to stand up for me. That was like being... a friend."

"Luna, I am your friend." It was an awkward conversation, but they had been having it since first year. Portia, Isabella's pet kneazle, jumped onto her bed. The cat-like creature's red coat shone softly, its black leopard spots pricked out with moonlight. Portia snuggled up on Isabella's pillow and began to purr.

"Bella?" Isabella stifled a groan and roused herself.

"Yes, Luna?" she tried not to snap. Ale claimed that she could bite more viciously than a basilisk if you wouldn't let her sleep.

"Would you like to come to the Hog's Head next weekend?"

_The Hog's Head?_ "Luna, wouldn't you rather go to the Three Broomsticks?"

"My friend Ginny, you know her, she's in Gryffindor and she's very sweet..."

"Luna, I hate to be rude, but please. We've got Potions tomorrow and you know I can't concentrate when I'm tired."

"Oh, right. Well, Ginny's friend Harry, Harry Potter, he's going to be meeting with a few students. For a Defense Against the Dark Arts study group, I think."

"A study group?" Isabella sank back on her pillows. "Well, I guess that's all right." _Anything to get some sleep._

"Bella?"

"Yes?" she sighed heavily.

"Goodnight."

"Night, Luna."


	4. A Life of International Interest

Isabella woke and automatically reached up to push Portia off her head.

"You'll smother me one night," she told the kneazle. "And you'll feel sorry." Portia blinked those wide gold eyes. "You will," Isabella assured her, getting up with a yawn. "No one will feed you polenta." Portia licked her lips and arched her back.

Isabella pulled on her school robes and pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail.

"Goodbye, Castro," she whispered, stroking the augury's bald head gently. He opened his mouth but no sound came out because of the Silencing Charm her father had used on the bird. Isabella looked out the window.

"You're right, mia bella," she told the large green bird. "It does look like rain."

"Bella!" Alex called from the doorway. "Don't you want breakfast?"

"Coming!" she called, pulling her book bag over one shoulder and following.

They ate breakfast quickly then hurried down to the dungeons to join the Hufflepuffs for Potions. Professor Snape was, as usual, a nightmare. He assigned an eighteen inch report due the next class.

"Miss O'Reagan?" The professor drawled as the rest of the class was moving out of the classroom.

"Go ahead," Isabella told her friends who had paused. "I'll meet you in Transfiguration."

"Your potion was less than satisfactory," Professor Snape sneered as the last Hufflepuffs left the room. "Is there something... wrong?"

"No, sir." Isabella leant away from the greasy-haired potions master.

"Are you sure?"

"I think so, sir." Professor Snape's lip curled slightly.

"Well, as long as you _think_ so," he scoffed.

"Um, sir?" the girl asked as the professor turned away in a swirl of black robes. "May I ask why you are interested?" Professor Snape stopped and looked back at her condescendingly.

"Not all of my students' lives are of international interest..." he said mysteriously. "Oh, and have Miss Baker tutor you, if you expect to pass." She glared at his back murderously, affronted by the comment to her potion skills. It hadn't been _that _bad. She turned and ran to follow her friends to Transfiguration.

The class was already in session by the time she pushed through the doors.

"Miss O'Reagan, if you will have a seat," Professor McGonagall told her. Isabella sat down next to Luna and pulled out her wand.

"What are we doing?" she whispered to her classmate.

"We're turning whistles into pocket watches," Luna said, giving her a tin whistle.

"Getting Miss O'Reagan started, Miss Lovegood?" Professor McGonagall asked, sweeping down on the pair of them. "Very good. The spell is Tintinabulation. Let me see." Isabella cleared her throat and tapped the whistle firmly.

"Tintinabulation," she ordered it clearly. The whistle meekly became a pocket watch. Professor McGonagall picked it up and checked its time.

"Very good, O'Reagan," she announced. "It's a little late. Ten points to Ravenclaw." Isabella smiled at Morgan, whose watch was distinctly whistle-shaped and thus created a rather Dali-esque effect.

Lunch came next, but before Isabella could slip out the door Professor McGonagall called her name.

"What did you do now?" Alex asked. She was rather put off that her watch had announced the quarter hour with a shrill whistle.

"I don't know," Isabella sighed. "I'll catch you up." Professor McGonagall moved among the desks collecting whistles, watches, and some things halfway in between.

"I see Mister Creevy still isn't mastering the charm," she said sourly, picking up piece of string that had once been Collin's whistle.

"Tell me, Miss O'Reagan," Professor McGonagall asked, putting the box of items on her desk. "How you are doing today."

"Professor?" she asked cautiously. Isabella was not usually held after class by teachers. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You don't?" Professor McGonagall looked surprised. "Did you notice nothing this morning?"

"Well, Professor Snape held me back..."

"Yes, yes. I am aware of that," Professor McGonagall snapped. She picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lying on her desk and shook it out. Isabella came closer and saw an article written on page three. It described, in rather uncomfortable detail, a fight that had broken out between the Minister for Magic and... her mother.

"Oh dear," Isabella said, realizing what Professor Snape had meant. "I don't actually read the _Prophet_, Professor," she admitted.

"Maybe you should," Professor McGonagall said. The teacher hesitated, then began, "Miss O'Reagan, do you happen to know..."

"I'm sorry Professor," Isabella said smoothly. "But even if I did, I don't think I'd be allowed to tell you."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "Well, off to lunch with you. You wouldn't want to keep Miss Baker in the dark much longer." Isabella smiled, knowing that Morgan would probably be bursting with curiosity by now.

Sure enough, she didn't even have time to sit down before Morgan demanded to know everything that had happened with Snape and McGonagall.

"Nothing much," Isabella said, selecting a bacon bunty from the plate. "My mother got in a fight of some sort with the Minister and Snape and McGonagall were plying me for information."

"What were they fighting about?" Morgan asked, grabbing a bowl of crisps and passing them around.

"I didn't even know they had fought," Isabella shrugged.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, Snape said I should get you to tutor me in potions," she sighed, taking a bite of her sandwich. Morgan smiled a little at the compliment from Professor Snape, which almost made up for the failed Transfiguration lesson.

"Maybe your mother and Fudge were arguing about the Rotfang conspiracy," Luna suggested, eating a crisp.

"My mom has really great teeth, Luna, but thanks for your concern," Isabella sighed. Luna _would_.

That night the Ravenclaws had Quidditch practice. Roger Davies was the captain and pushing them very hard, determined to regain the glory once held by Ravenclaw as winners of the Quidditch House Cup. By the time they came off the pitch, the Ravenclaws were tired, but certainly not too tired to complain about Umbridge.

"She's the most horrible Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had!" Nick Hewgly, one of the beaters, complained. He was a year older than Isabella, but short and broad with a loud brassy voice.

"And that's saying something," Cory Johnston added. He was six-foot two and the keeper.

"I liked Lupin," Isabella said. "And Mad-Eye, except that he was a Death-Eater."

"You can't really believe that!" Cory laughed.

"Dumbledore says it's true, and I believe Dumbledore," Isabella said defiantly. That was not, strictly speaking, true. She believed Dumbledore because her grandfather believed him and Grandfather Leo was rarely wrong.

"And Harry, too," Cho added quietly. No one said anything to that, although Cory rolled his eyes. Cho hadn't been the same since Cedric's death and no one liked to talk about Harry Potter around her. As Isabella and Cho walked up to the castle together, Isabella was struck by inspiration.

"Cho, I heard that Harry Potter's having some sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts study group," she said quickly. "If you're interested, we're meeting at the Hog's Head pub this Saturday."

"Oh. Is that... allowed?"

"It's just a study group," Isabella assured her. "Come on, Harry'll be there!" Cho considered this for a moment, then agreed to think about it.


	5. The Hog's Head

A/N: Yes, most of the dialogue comes straight from OoP. As it is considered canon, I didn't touch it but simply tried to write my character in. Tell me if it's awful.

"Luna are you sure?" Isabella struggled through the snow behind Luna. They were in Hogsmede and it was cold. Isabella didn't like the cold.

"Yes. See, there's Ginny up ahead," Luna pointed to a girl with flaming red hair. She was accompanied by a Hufflepuff boy named Zacharias Smith.

"Bella!" They turned and saw Cho Chang running up the path toward them. A girl with freckles and very curly red hair followed, looking bored and disdainful. Isabella recognized her as Marietta Edgecomb, one of Cho's friends.

Together the four Ravenclaws walked along the side street and entered the grimy Hog's Head Pub.

There was a huge group of people inside: Padma Patil and her twin Parvati, Colin and Dennis Creevy, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Ginny, Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Zacharias Smith, and four or five others Isabella didn't recognize.

At the front of the pub stood Hermione Granger, another red-haired Weasley boy, and Harry Potter.

Fred and George ordered twenty-six Butterbeers. Isabella took out her purse and paid enough money for four. She liked doing that, partly out of goodwill and partly out of the enjoyment of seeing three other people's surprise.

Isabella sat down and Luna drifted over to her.

"You know, it's the funniest thing," Luna mentioned. "Every time we go out, someone always messes up the bill." Isabella frowned, slightly put-out by Luna's observation. The other Ravenclaws, Terry, Anthony, Cho, Marrietta, and (to her supreme annoyance) Michael, settled down around her.

Isabella O'Reagan really was very popular. She was, for the most part, quiet and kind. The boys flocked to her because of her pretty features. She was intelligent, but not formidably so, and had the added quality of being foreign born. She was Italian, living in England since her mother worked in the English Ministry of Magic.

"Looks like we're spending our Saturday together after all," Michael smiled, edging his chair a little closer.

"Only because Terry made you come," Isabella hissed, and turned away as everyone went quiet. Every eye was on Harry.

"Well - er - hi," Hermione began. Everyone turned their attention to her instead. "Well...erm...well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea - I mean, I had the idea - that it might me good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us - because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts-"

"Hear, hear," Terry Boot chimed in. Isabella smiled at him, causing the older boy to blush slightly.

"Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands," Hermione continued, looking heartened. "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells -"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Michael Corner added, glancing hopefully at Isabella. She did not even dane to give him a glance.

"Of course I do," Hermione said at once. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained because... because..." she took a great breath and finished, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

Marrietta shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down her front; Anthony Goldstien gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered.

"Well said," Isabella spoke up firmly. She cast an acid look at Michael who visibly withered. Hermione looked at the Ravenclaw gratefully.

"Well... that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to -"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" Zacharias Smith asked. Isabella noted, from his hand twined around Ginny's, that the Hufflepuff had replaced Michael in the Griffindor's affections.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it -" Hermione began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes _him_," Zacharias said, nodding at Harry. There was a brief, heated exchange between Zacharias and Harry.

"I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out," Harry said. Isabella slipped her arm around Cho's waist and gave it a comforting squeeze. The older girl said nothing, but leaned into the welcoming embrace.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So... like I was saying... if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to -"

"Is it true," interrupted Susan Bones, looking at Harry, "That you can cast a Patronus?" There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

"Yeah," Harry said, slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?" Susan insisted.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry. Isabella and a few other people laughed at this.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Er - yeah, I did yeah," said Harry. While people whistled softly or exchanged awed glances, Isabella tapped Terry on the shoulder.

"What were _you_ doing in Dumbledore's office?" she asked, her dark eyes sparkling. Terry blushed even more and mumbled something incoherent.

"And in our first year," Neville was saying to the group at large, "He saved that Philological Stone - "

"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that - from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho who was looking at Harry and smiling. "All the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year - getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things..."

"Hey," Michael whispered hopefully to Isabella, inspired by Terry's Dumbledore story. "I got into detention this week!"

"I'm not surprised," she said coldly, turning away from him firmly and looking back toward Harry.

"Look," he said. "I... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest out anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias.

"I'll turn you into a weasel, so help me!" Isabella said, standing and pulling out her wand. Zacharias yelped and tried to hide behind Ginny, knowing that the Ravenclaw really could and really would keep that threat.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said from behind Ginny, who looked slightly disgusted by him.

"That's not what he's saying," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" enquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument form inside one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred. Zacharias looked from the twins to Isabella, and kept his mouth clamped shut.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily. "Moving on... the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons form Harry?" There was a murmur of general agreement.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week -"

"Hold on," said the girl Isabella recognized as the captain of the Griffindor Quidditch team. "We need to make sure this doesn't interfere with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours." Isabella sat down at last, nodding vehemently.

"Nor ours," added Zacharias, sensing a threat had passed.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently. "But you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters -"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!" This was the second mention of OWLs, and Isabella now realized that she, Luna, Colin, and Dennis were the youngest people there. Almost the entire group consisted of fifth years, people in Harry's year.

Ernie was going on about how useless a teacher Umbridge was, and what on earth Fudge could have been thinking making Dumbledore hire her.

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione. "Is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Everybody looked stunned at this news, except Luna who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army." When everyone turned to look at Luna in astonishment, Isabella groaned.

"What?" said Harry, his mouth slightly open.

"Luna, please," Isabella begged her friend. "Not the Heliopaths thing again." But Luna could not be stopped.

"He has," she insisted, her protuberant eyes wider so that she looked slightly mad. Well, madder than normal. "They're spirits of fire, great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of -"

"They don't exist," said Hermione tartly.

"Oh, yes, they do!" said Luna angrily. Isabella gestured for Hermione to back out of this argument, mouthing, _"You can't win."_ God knows she, Alex, and Morgan had tried.

"_Hem, hem_," Ginny coughed, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have a defense lessons?"

Then followed a discussion about where to hold the lessons, then Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment.

"I - I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath. "That we all ought to agree not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his name down. A few people were not so happy about signing their names.

"Er..." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass to him. "Well... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is." Zacharias was stopped a sharp jab in the middle of his back. Isabella stood there, her wand digging into his spine and a murderous look in her eye.

"Okay, okay," Zacharias said, practically tearing the parchment in his haste. Isabella took the paper next and looked up at Hermione.

"Full name?" she asked. Hermione nodded and Isabella put down her signature with a flourish.

As people began to leave, Isabella stayed behind with Luna.

"I was wondering, you said to tell nobody else," the Ravenclaw said. "But Luna and I have a few friends who might be interested."

"Yes, Alex and Morgan would love to have extra lessons," Luna agreed, glaring at Hermione.

"Well, I suppose so," Hermione said, looking over at Harry. "If you trust them that is." Isabella nodded happily and left with Luna, passing an impatient Marrietta. As the door closed behind them, Isabella could be heard soothing Luna and assuring her that her theory about Heliopaths just wasn't very well known.

"Check it out," Ron said, looking over the parchment. "Twenty six, not bad, eh?" Hermione took the parchment and skimmed over it.

"Good lord!" she breathed, pointing to the fourth name down. It read, in fancy curling script: Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan.

"What's a Petrrocis?" Ron asked.

"Not what: who. They're the most famous pure-blood wizarding family in Italy!" Hermione said breathlessly.

"Pure-blood?" Harry asked, slightly unnerved.

"They're not prejudice," Hermione assured him. "But Old Leonardo Petrroci practically has the Italian Ministry of Magic in his pocket. His daughter... Merlin's Beard! Leonardo must be Isabella's grandfather! Her mother is the Italian ambassador to the English ministry!"

"And that makes her mum... how powerful?" Ron asked as they left the bar.

"She makes all of Italy's decisions concerning England," Hermione said. "If she wanted, there could be a war between the two countries."

"So... powerful," Ron concluded.


	6. Educational Decree 24

Isabella and Luna pushed to the front of the crowd gathered before the Ravenclaw noticeboard.

"What's going on?" Isabella asked Anthony. He pointed to a large notice that covered most of the board.

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_All student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organization, society, team, group, or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)_

_No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor._

_And student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. _

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor._

"Oh my," Luna said, finishing reading the notice. Isabella frowned and grabbed Cho's arm as she was heading off to breakfast.

"That can't mean Quidditch, can it?" Isabella demanded.

"Well, it does say team," Cho pointed out, clearly unhappy. "So I guess we have to, what was it? Oh yeah, 'seek permission to re-form'."

"Then do it quickly!" Isabella said. When she was upset, her accent got thicker and almost impenetrable. "We can't afford to lose practice time!"

"I'll go right away," Cho assured her.

"Bella!" she turned and saw Alex descending on her.

"What's the matter?" Isabella asked.

"That's what's the bloody matter!" the taller girl exclaimed pointing at the notice. "Bella, what about our study sessions?"

"What do you mean?" Alex, Morgan, Luna, and she usually met either in the library or the common room to do homework together. "That's not a club, is it?"

"It's a regular meeting of three or more students," Alex insisted.

"Christ!" Isabella smacked her forehead. "All we do is a little transfiguration and potions practice! I'm going to fail potion if she won't let us do that!"

"Look, we've got to go during lunch," Alex said, stepping through the door.

"Could you imagine McGonagall's face if I give her another whistle watch?" Morgan groaned.

Down in the Great Hall there was a buzz of talk and movement. Every member of every club was seeking each other out and speculating on whether Professor Umbridge would let them reform. Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked in and were immediately set upon by the other three Weasleys and a boy Isabella didn't know.

Terry, Anthony, and Michael also went over to the Gryffindor table, but were intercepted by Ginny.

"Well?" Isabella asked Terry who sat down across from her.

"We're in," the fifth year assured her.

"In what?" Morgan asked, forking up bacon. Luna and Isabella exchanged looks.

"How would you like a real Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Isabella asked, keeping her voice soft.

"That'd be great," Alex shrugged, buttering her toast. "But it's not like that's going to happen."

"What if an older student agreed to teach us?" Isabella said.

"A Ravenclaw?" Morgan asked. "A boy?"

"A Gryffindor boy," Luna corrected. "Harry Potter." Alex, who had been about to take a large bite out of her toast, lowered it.

"Come off it," she said. "No way Umbridge would let us."

"Umbridge doesn't have to know," Terry said, leaning forward slightly.

"But it's against the rules!" Alex argued. Isabella, Terry, and Luna made hushing movements.

"Forget the rules!" Morgan said, her eyes shining. "I'm in!"

"Come on, just one meeting," Isabella begged Alex.

"We could get expelled!" her friend hissed.

"If you go to one meeting," Isabella bargained. "I'll help you turn your crow into a water goblet." Alex fell silent. She had never quite managed to get her goblets perfect, they always ended up molting.

"Fine, one meeting," she said at last. "And if we're expelled, I'll kill you."

"That sounds very cheerful," a voice said. Terry and Alex jumped, Luna spilled a little pumpkin juice and Morgan gasped. Isabella looked up and smiled at Fred and George.

"Listen," George said, pulling out a rolled up poster. "Do you mind posting this in the Ravenclaw common room?" Isabella took it and unrolled it, revealing a bright advertisement.

"Skiving Snackboxes," she read. "Fainting Fancies, Fever Fudge, Nosebleed Nougats, and Puking Pastilles. Skip classes with fake illness, then eat the other half and enjoy your hour off." She grinned and looked up. "This is brilliant! You did this?"

"We blush to hear your praise," Fred said flamboyantly. Terry frowned at them, stirring his cereal morosely.

The owls began to swoop down, delivering the early morning post. Among them was a bottle green, vulture-like bird.

"Castro!" Isabella said, holding out her arm. The augury fluttered down and perched on it. He opened his mouth and gave a silent croak. Luna fed him bacon as she undid the letter tied to his leg.

"Harry reckons Umbridge is checking all our mail," Fred said, stealing a doughnut from a tray.

"I don't think she could read Bella's mail," Morgan said mysteriously. Isabella laughed as she opened the letter and showed to to Fred and George.

"What the bloody hell does that say?"

"It'll take me a few hours to figure it out," Isabella told them. "I have to translate it from Gaelic to Italian."

"Do all your letters come like this?" George asked, looking over it.

"No, only the ones from Mami and Papi," Isabella said, stroking Castro's wings. "Fly up to the dorm, I've got a letter for you to take to Grandfather." Castro finished the bacon and took off.


	7. The DA

The next day, a message came from Harry through Ginny to Luna and Isabella that they were to go the seventh floor where the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy was at eight o'clock.

At seven fifty Luna, Alex, Morgan, and Isabella came to where the tapestry depicting Barnabus trying to teach ballet to trolls was hung. Terry, Michael, and Anthony were coming along later, but Cho and Marrietta had left the common room before them.

They closed their eyes and walked back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall until a large door appeared. Isabella pulled it open and let her friends in, following shortly after.

It was a spacious room lit with torches. There were bookshelves filled with texts on jinxes, hexes, and counter-curses. Instead of chairs, large plump cushions were scattered over the floor.

A few other students were gathered at the far end, looking over a range of dark-magic detectors in some glass cases.

"What is this place?" Morgan asked, her green eyes wide. When an older Gryffindor boy, Isabella thought his name might be Dean Thomas, turned to explain, Morgan nearly fainted with excitement.

Isabella and her friends sat down on the cushions and looked around. When Terry, Michael, and Anthony arrived, Isabella smiled at Terry and moved over to make room. He blushed and sat next to her, his leg brushing against hers. Michael looked green with jealousy.

At eight o'clock everyone had arrived and Harry locked the door. When the key clicked, everyone fell silent and looked expectantly at him.

"Well," said Harry slightly nervously. "This is the place we've found for practice sessions, and you've - er - obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.

"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard them."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the collection of objects in the glass cases.

"Dark detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. He explained very briefly about them, then turned away abruptly and regarded them all.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and - er -" he seemed to notice Hermione's raised hand. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," said Hermione.

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," said Hermione, unperturbed. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So - everyone who thinks Harry ought to be leader?" Everybody put their hand up, even Alex and Morgan who had never met Harry.

"Er - right, thanks," said Harry, flushing heavily. "And - _what_, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, her hand still hanging in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"Hey, some of us have parents in the Ministry," Isabella said hotly. "Including you, Fred!"

"Oh, right," Fred shrugged. "How about Fudge is an Idiot Society?"

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred. "More of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?" There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

"All is favor of DA?" said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. "That's a majority - motion passed!" She pinned the piece of parchment with all of their signatures on it on to the wall and wrote across the top in large letters:

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY

"Right," said Harry, when she had sat down again. "Shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful -"

"Oh, _please_," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life last June." The entire room went very quiet.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry said. Smith did not move, nor did anybody else.

"OK, I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice." Everybody got to their feet at once and divided up. Luna went with Ginny, and Alex and Morgan stayed together.

"Do you want to practice with me, Terry?" Isabella asked. He smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Right - on the count of three, then - one, two, three -"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Isabella shouted, flicking her wand and sending Terry's flying. "Sorry, Terry," she smiled as he stood still, looking slightly stunned. She fetched his wand back with a Summoning Charm.

"Here, your turn," she said, tossing his wand to him. They took a stance again.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Terry shouted, waving his wand with slightly too much enthusiasm. A book flew off the shelf and Isabella barely ducked in time.

"You don't need to wave your wand that much, Terry," Harry advised, walking past. "It's like this, _Expelliarmus_." Isabella allowed her wand to go spinning across the room, where Harry caught it in an experienced way.

"_Expelliarmus_," Terry tried again once Isabella had her wand back. It tugged feebly in her hand. She disarmed him a few more times and finally Terry succeeded in sending her wand flying every other time.

"OK, stop!" Harry shouted. "_Stop! STOP!_" He picked up a whistle and blew hard, causing everyone to lower their wands.

"Well, that was pretty good," said Harry. "But we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodded in agreement.

"We need Quidditch practices, too!" Angelina said quickly.

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," said Harry. "We can decide on additional meetings them. Come on, we'd better get going."

Isabella and Luna had Alex and Morgan sign the parchment with everyone else's name before they left.

"Well, did you like it?" Isabella asked them at they hurried back to the common room.

"It was brilliant!" Morgan said enthusiastically. "I finally got Alex's wand away from her!"

"It was pretty cool," Alex agreed reluctantly. "Like a really good study session. I had fun, too."


	8. Letters from home

During one DA meeting, Isabella transformed Justin Finch-Fletchley into a mouse. After that, students from the DA kept coming up and asking her for Transfiguration advice. Colin Creevy had asked her to tutor him, and even a few of the old students wanted help with their homework.

"Perhaps you should ask Professor McGonagall," she kept saying, until one day McGonagall asked _her _ to tutor them.

"Frankly, I think it would be the best solution," the teacher said bruskly, collecting spell books with a flick of her wand. "I am very busy, you see."

"But Professor, I'm not qualified..." she began. Professor McGonagall shoved a book into her arms.

"Everything you need to know is in there," the professor said. "Come to me if you have questions."

And so it was that Isabella knocked on Professor Umbridge's door to ask about setting up a Transfiguration Society.

"Come in," the sickly sweet voice commanded. Isabella walked into the office and tried not to visibly flinch. It was covered in pink and lace with kittens gambling across a collection of plates.

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," Isabella recited.

"Good afternoon, Miss...?" It really annoyed Isabella when teacher didn't know her name after a few months. That just meant they weren't trying.

"O'Reagan, professor," she supplied.

"And how can I help you, Miss O'Reagan?"

"I'd like to set up a Transfiguration Society," Isabella said. Professor Umbridge sat back in her pink armchair and looked over the Ravenclaw with her beady eyes.

"And you believe yourself qualified to teach, Miss O'Reagan?"

"Um, well, not really Professor," she answered honestly. "But Professor McGonagall asked me to tutor her students, not really teach them."

"Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge asked, her voice a little sharper than normal.

"Yes, Professor."

"Hem, well, I'll think about it and get back to you, Miss O'Reagan," Professor Umbridge said sweetly.

"Thank you," Isabella said, happy to escape the horrible pink interior of Professor Umbridge's office. "Have a nice afternoon Professor Umbridge."

"One moment." Isabella stopped in her tracks. "Would you mind turning out your pockets?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Not at all, professor," Isabella replied. She undid the flap of her bookbag and allowed Professor Umbridge to paw through it. Then she emptied the contents of her pockets, including the fake Galleon Hermione had given all the members of the DA. The numbers along the side of the fake coin reflected the time and date of the next meeting (tomorrow night at seven thirty).

Professor Umbridge passed over the coin without so much as a second glance, but she picked up a piece of parchment and unfolded it.

"What is this?" she asked, sounding triumphant. Isabella frowned at the sight of her father's letter in Professor Umbridge's hand.

"A letter from home," she replied.

"And why is it written in code?" Professor Umbridge demanded, waving the parchment around.

"It isn't, professor. It's written in Italian."

"We'll see about that!" the toad-like woman said. She tapped the parchment with her short, fat wand. "Reveal your secrets!" she ordered it. Nothing happened.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I am Italian," Isabella tried again. "It's my first language so that's what my parent's write to me in."

"Translate it!" Professor Umbridge said, giving the parchment back to Isabella. The Ravenclaw did not admit that she couldn't translate it on the spot. But she did know enough of what it said to pretend for Professor Umbridge, and also enough of what it meant to avoid saying certain things.

"Very well," Professor Umbridge said when she was finished. The High Inquisitor looked slightly disappointed. "You may go."

Isabella collected her things and left, closing the door behind her and leaning against the wall with a sigh.

Castro arrived at dinner carrying a heavy parcel. He looked flustered and refused to leave, eating the pieces of mince pie that Morgan and Luna fed him.

Isabella unwrapped the package with a cry of delight. "Uncle Luigi's lasagna!" she told her friends. "Come on, everyone have some!" The meal provided by the Hogwarts house-elfs was immediately set aside in favor of the lasagna.

Isabella gave huge slices of the thickly layered noodles, cheese, sauce, and meat to Anthony, Terry, Michael, Luna, Morgan, and Alex. Everyone dug in with appreciative murmurs.

"Uncle Luigi is the best pasta maker in Venice," she told them, watching their delighted faces. "He usually sends me some every week. But Papi says that mail is being delayed coming into Britain. This looks like there was a Preserving Spell on it."

"It tastes great," Anthony assured her. "God, I wish I had an Uncle Luigi!"

"What is it, Castro?" The augury had been nuzzling her, and now her had pushed his way under her hand.

"Didn't Harry's owl get hurt when he was intercepted?" Luna asked.

"Hurt?" Isabella asked, setting Castro on the table in front of her. "You're not hurt, are you boy?" Castro ruffled his feathers and blinked mournfully. Then he opened his mouth and wailed.

The sound filled the Great Hall, echoing and magnifying. People shouted and covered their ears, looking around wildly.

"Please don't! Bad Castro, very bad!" Isabella screamed over the wailing, her fingers blocking her ears. Professor Dumbledore stood up and swept down from the dais.

"_Silencio_!" he ordered, pointing his wand at Castro. The augury's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out.

"I'm sorry, Professor!" Isabella said, gathering Castro into her lap and stroking his ruffled feathers. "He shouldn't have been able to do that!"

"It is quite all right," Professor Dumbledore assured her softly. Then he announced to the room at large, "Everything is under control."

"What was that?" Anthony asked, taking his hands from his ears.

"It appears that someone had taken the Silencing Charm off of Miss O'Reagan's pet," Professor Dumbledore said calmly. Isabella nodded, embarrassed. "Can you tell me, where exactly he was before tonight?"

"He was in Italy, sir," Isabella explained. "At the Villa Petrroci, near Padua."

"I see," Professor Dumbledore said. "If you will be so good as to bring your augury and come to my office, Miss O'Reagan?" Isabella stood up and followed Professor Dumbledore out of the Great Hall.

They were halfway across the Entrance Hall when Professor Umbridge intercepted them.

"So close," Isabella sighed. Professor Dumbledore smiled slightly at her comment and turned to face the Professor.

"May I help, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked in her most poisonously sweet voice.

"Help?" Professor Dumbledore asked politely. "No, I think I can handle this."

"Clearly not," Professor Umbridge insisted, moving forward a little. "As I can see you have already allowed Miss O'Reagan certain exceptions to the school rules."

"_Now she remembers my name," _Isabella thought wryly.

"Exceptions?" Professor Dumbledore asked innocently.

"Why, yes," Professor Umbridge said. "The rules clearly state that a student may bring an owl, rat, or a toad to Hogwarts. It does not include... other creatures."

"Ah, yes," Professor Dumbledore nodded. "But you see, cats are also not mentioned Professor."

"What?" Professor Umbridge asked, looking at little disconcerted.

"Well, I'm afraid that if you have an objection to..."

"Castro," Isabella supplied.

"Castro," Dumbledore continued. "Then you would have to extend that objection to the cats of Hogwarts. Fair is fair." Her face turned red as she thought about this.

"Well, I suppose, technically," she spluttered.

"I'm so glad you agree," Professor Dumbledore beamed, sweeping past her. Isabella scurried in his wake, glancing over her shoulder at a thoroughly subdued Professor Umbridge.

"Nice," Isabella commented.

"Thank you," Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. They arrived at the two gargoyles who sprang aside at the mention of fizzing whizbees.

"Now, Miss O'Reagan," Professor Dumbledore said as he went to stand behind his desk. "Let me see that augury." Isabella handed Castro over and Professor Dumbledore handled him gently.

"Is he all right?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh yes, I think so," Professor Dumbledore assured her. "But I believe he has been examined and, in the process, the Silencing Charm your father placed on him was taken off." He handed Castro back and she took the green bird, petting him comfortingly.

"I think it would be most unwise to send him out of the country again," Professor Dumbledore said, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles. Isabella gaped back in horror.

"But... Professor... they're family!" She gasped. "You can't honestly be suggesting..." Dumbledore held up a hand for silence.

"I am merely suggesting it for your own, and of course Castro's, safety," he said softly. "More and more letters are being intercepted. It would be very unfortunate if some information better left between the Petrroci's fell into the wrong hands."

"I suppose so," Isabella said after a long pause. Sometimes it was so very difficult being an ambassador's daughter.

"Now, off to bed," Professor Dumbledore said. "Pip pip!"


	9. Boys are such animals

"Go go Gryffindor, go go Gryffindor!" Isabella cheered, watching Harry swoop past, looking for the snitch. Ravenclaw was, yet again, supporting the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"And it's Johnson - Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me -" Lee commentated.

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall's voice scolded.

"- just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's - ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away -"

"- dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?" And as Lee paused to listened, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of silver and green in the Slytherin section of the stands:

"_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherin's all sing:_

_Weasley is our King._

_Weasley was born in a bin_

_He always lets the Quaffle in_

_Weasley will make sure we win_

_Weasley is our King."_

"That's not very nice," Luna commented, the lion on her hat growling and snarling.

"- and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted, trying to drown out the words of the song. "Come on now, Angelina - looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! - SHE SHOOTS - SHE -"

"Aw man," Isabella groaned, hitting the railing as Bletchley the Slytherin keeper saved the goal. He threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from the Slytherin's grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.

"- and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger ranger with just the Keeper ahead - so it's a test of new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!"

But Ron dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin score!" Lee's voice announced over the cheering and booing. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron."

Ron let in three more goals and the Slytherin's singing grew louder. Finally Katie Bell managed to get the Quaffle through the Slytherin's hoop. Luna's lion hat roared joyfully and Isabella cheered.

Finally, Harry managed to catch the Snitch giving Gryffindor the winning points despite Ron's abysmal goal keeping. One of the Slytherin Beaters, Isabella thought he was called Goyle, hit Harry as soon at he grabbed the Snitch. Harry was knocked off his broom, but he had dived close to the ground and only fell about two meters.

Madam Hooch descended on Goyle and berated him soundly as the Gryffindor team landed and helped Harry to his feet.

Malfoy had also landed and was saying something to Harry, his pale face sour and angry. Something he said must have set Fred and George off, because they visibly stiffened and glared at the Slytherin Seeker.

Suddenly Angelina, Katie, and Harry were holding the twins back as they strove to leap at Malfoy.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, watching the scene below. And then, quite unexpectedly, Harry let go of George and they were both sprinting at Malfoy. They leapt on the Slytherin and began to beat him soundly.

"Harry! George! NO!" Isabella knew it was useless to yell, they couldn't possibly hear her. She turned and ran down to the pitch, pushing her way through the crowd. By the time she got there, however, George and Harry had been sent from the pitch, Malfoy lay in a sobbing heap on the grass, and Fred was being restrained by Alicia, Katie, and Angelina.

"What happened?" Isabella demanded of Angelina.

"He insulted my mum and dad!" Fred snarled, still striving to get at Malfoy. "Come on, just let me punch him once!"

"No!" Isabella shouted, pulling out her wand. Suddenly Fred shank and became very furry and white. Alicia, Katie, and Angelina started when Fred slipped from their hands and turned into a...

"You need to cool off!" Isabella informed the snowshoe hare, picking him up by the scruff of his neck. She shook Fred soundly and set him on the grass. His eyes were wide with shock and he sat there, frozen in terror.

"Where is Mister Weasley?" Professor Flitwick demanded, coming down onto the field.

"Which one?" Isabella inquired politely. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was either laughing or in shock. Ginny picked up the rabbit that had been her brother.

"Good Lord, Miss O'Reagan!" Flitwick exclaimed, catching sight of the rabbit in Ginny's arms. "Not another one! Change Mr. Weasley back this instant!" Isabella sighed and flicked her wand. Ginny stepped back at the rabbit grew into her older brother. He had the same horrified look that the rabbit had had.

"Miss O'Reagan, twenty points from Ravenclaw!" Flitwick said. "If I told you to stop transform boys into animals once, I've told you fifty times!"

"I will when they stop acting like them," Isabella grumbled. All of the girls present laughed, if a little nervously.


	10. Kodak Moment

"It's freezing!" Isabella complained, her cheeks red with the cold. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her and she shivered slightly. "Why on earth would you want to play in the snow?"

"Because it's fun!" Morgan laughed. "And if you're cold now, just wait!"

"Wait for what?" Isabella asked, miserable. Her three friends had dragged her outside to make a snow man but, being bereft of things like coal or carrots, the snowy figure had no face.

"This!" Morgan shouted, throwing a snowball at Isabella, who yelped and jumped. Isabella glared at Morgan, who beamed back at her.

"You Aquavarius Maggot!" Isabella snarled. "I'll get you for that."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about Aquavarius Maggots," Luna said quietly, but Isabella had already scooped up a handful of snow. Morgan squealed and ran to hide behind Alex. Isabella, who had already tossed her weapon, watched as the snow ball hit the tall girl in the chest.

"Now you've dragged me into this?" Alex asked, stepping aside to leave Morgan exposed. Alex bent down and began to form a snowball as well. Soon the four girls were in an all out war. Morgan found an ally in Luna; Alex and Isabella teamed up on the other two.

"I see we're having a nice, diplomatic discussion," Fred said, strolling up with George. "Good to know girls can talk their problems over." Isabella hit Fred in the mouth with a snowball. He spluttered and retaliated by seizing the snowman's head and lobbing it towards Isabella, who ducked aside at the last moment.

"Hey, we worked hard on that!" Morgan yelled, aiming her next snowball at George.

The fight ended when the twins, Alex, and Isabella teamed up to dump Morgan face first into the snow and Luna surrendered.

"Well, I proved my point!" Morgan said, standing up and attempting to shake the snow off. "Playing in the snow is fun."

"Kodak moment!" Fred announced, looking over all of them covered in snow, their cheeks red and eyes sparkling. "Oi, Ernie!"

The Hufflepuff boy, walking a little ways a way, turned towards them. When Fred beckoned him over, Ernie strode up.

"Will you take a picture of us?" George asked him.

"Sure. Do you have a camera?"

"Yes," said Fred, pulling out a camera.

"Isn't that Collin's?" Isabella asked, eyes narrowed.

"Might be," George shrugged. "Get together now!" Alex stood in the back, her arm slung around Morgan's shoulders, who was smiling, breathless from the fight and being dunked in the snow. Fred and George flanked Isabella, their flaming red hair and identical grins setting off her dark eyes and shy smile. Luna stood a little to the side, her lips curved a little into a dreamy smile.

"One... two... three," Ernie said, clicking the button. "Looks good." He handed the camera back to Fred who pocketed it.

"You are going to give that back to Collin, aren't you?" Isabella demanded.

"Of course," Fred smiled. "When we're through with it."

"Fred! Give it back!" Isabella told him, crossing her arms.

"Okay, okay. Fine, we'll give it back when we get this photo," Fred assured her, patting her head patronizingly.

"See you tomorrow!" George called over his shoulder as the twins rounded the corner of the castle.

"Tomorrow's the last meeting of the DA before Christmas, isn't it?" Luna asked, dreamily building another head for their decapitated snowman.

"Yeah, it is," Alex nodded, helping her pat more snow onto the white ball. They put the new head onto the snowman and put a bow on the top of its head. They used twigs to make a squat little mouth and squinty eyes.

"Looks like Umbridge," Luna said off-handedly.

"Yeah, it does," Isabella said, stepping back and looking at it. Without warning, she punched the snow-woman in the mid-section, utterly demolishing it.

"Aw, I wanted to do that!" Alex complained.

"We can make another," Isabella promised.


	11. First Kiss

Isabella and Terry walked together to the last DA meeting before Christmas. The castle was decorated with tinsel and boughs of evergreen.

"So, are you going home for the holidays?" Terry asked awkwardly.

"Well, sort of," Isabella said somewhat sadly. "My parents live in a cottage in Scotland during the year, so that's where I spend Christmas. But over the summer I go to Villa Petrroci."

"That's the one you told me about, in Italy, right?" Terry asked. Isabella nodded and tried to warm her hands by rubbing them together.

"Here," Terry said, taking her hands. They were ice cold, but when Isabella smiled gratefully at him he felt the heat climbing to his face.

"It's a shame about Harry," she said as they continued walking. "Him, Fred, and George that is."

"What about them?" Terry felt pangs of jealousy every time the Weasley twins were mentioned.

"Oh, Umbridge banning them from Quidditch," Isabella sighed. "I can't imagine being banned. My cousins, Alessandro, Lorenzo, and Roberto taught me to play. They're very good. I remember they were mad when I didn't get in first year. I had to tell them at least a dozen times that first years don't usually get chosen for the House teams."

"You're a really good player, though," Terry said. Isabella blushed slightly at the compliment.

"Well, here we are," she said, stopping in front of the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. They stood in silence for a little while, moving a little closer together. But then Zacharias Smith, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Hannah Abbot rounded the corner. Terry and Isabella immediately moved apart, feeling self-conscious, and opened the door that had appeared.

After everyone had arrived and settle down a little, Harry began to speak.

"OK," he said, calling everyone to order. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break -"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you,then," said Fred. Isabella sniggered and Terry laughed.

"- we can practice in pairs," said Harry. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

Terry and Isabella were partners, as usual. And, as usual, Terry was a good sport about the fact that Isabella was generally better than him. She froze him several times, but unlike others who froze their partners then ignored them for a bit, Isabella would immediately take the jinx off.

"No, Bella," Harry said when he caught her at it. "Leave him for a bit, to make sure it holds." Harry watched as Isabella froze Terry and the older Ravenclaw boy remained frozen.

"OK, you can let him go," Harry said at last. She did and then waited patiently wile Terry froze her.

"Do you remember that time when every time you tried the Impediment Jinx, all you could do was make my hair stand on end?" Isabella laughed when Terry unfroze her. He smiled shyly and nodded.

After about ten minutes on the Impediment Jinx, they laid out cushions all over the floor and started practicing Stunning again. Space was so confined that only half of them could work on this spell at once.

At the end of the hour, Harry called a halt.

"You're getting really good," he said, beaming around at them. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff - maybe even Patronuses." There was a murmur of excitement. The room began to clear out in the usual twos and threes.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" Isabella called as she went through the door.

Ron and Hermione followed her out and made their way to the Gryffindor tower. Marrietta also came out, looking decidedly annoyed. Soon it was just Terry and Isabella in the passage.

"Well," Terry said awkwardly, shifting his feet nervously. Isabella smiled at him and stepped a little closer. He gulped and stepped towards her. They leaned forward, Terry wrapping his arms around her waist.


	12. Christmas

"What did you say his name was?" her father asked again, frowning. Isabella sighed, she was sitting in the cottage and stringing popcorn and cranberries together for their tree. Well, when she wasn't throwing bits of popcorn for Portia to snag on her claw and eat.

"Terry Boot," she told her father again. Patrick O'Reagan was a tall man with dark blond hair, hazel eyes, and a flashing smile. Now, however, when he was concerned about his daughter dating, he frowned. Her father could be very overprotective.

"And how old is he?"

"Fifteen."

"He's too old!" he father scowled. He was using a Scouring Charm to clean out a cauldron. Her mother, tall with dark skin and hair, was levitating garlands around the room.

"Patrick," she said, her accent thick and rolling. "You were seventeen and I was fifteen when we started dating."

"That was different," her father said, blushing in a way that reminded Isabella of Terry. "You were mature."

"Bella is mature," her mother insisted, kissing her daughter on the head. "She's a Petrroci."

"Aha! Does your grandfather know about this?" her father demanded, sensing an ally.

"Dumbledore said not to send Castro out of the country," Isabella said, using the needle to spear a cranberry.

"He did what?" he mother and father said simultaneously. Isabella explained about the intercepted letter and how Castro's Silencing Charm had been taken off.

"How dare they!" her mother said, her cheeks flushed with righteous indignation. "I will be contacting Fudge about this!"

"Mami, don't," Isabella pleaded. Her father rallied to her cause and soon her mother was calmed down enough. Isabella and her father began to trim the Christmas tree with their decorations.

Her mother's Puffskin, Shylock, was hiding under the lowest boughs of the tree. She knelt down and coaxed him out with a bowl of milk so that Isabella and her father could put the presents under the tree.

"Hey, this one's for me!" her father said, weighing one of the presents in his hands. He held it up to his ear and shook it slightly. "A book!" he decided. It was an old joke: her father always claimed that no one gave him anything but books.

Isabella took the package and weighed it, checking the tag.

"It's from Great-Aunt Guilia!" she announced. "And it's heavy. It must be her disappointment in you!" Her father sighed dramatically as he took the package and placed it under the tree, nearly squashing Skylock.

"Antonia, do something about that puffskin!" he shouted as the bright yellow creature squeaked and rolled under the couch. Her mother merely laughed and hung up their stockings. The fire roared merrily and for a moment the three of them sat there in silence. Then her father went to the ancient piano and sat down. It was badly in need of a tuning and some of the keys didn't even play when your pushed them.

Her father began banging away on the keys, belting out "Oh, Chistmas Tree" in Italian. Isabella pulled Portia onto her lap and joined in. Her mother hovered in the kitchen finishing dinner and humming along.

Her father paused. He pushed the key again, but no noise came out. He grinned and Isabella and her mother laughed as he continued to pump the silent note.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, only the way a morning can after a fall of fresh snow. Isabella came into the living room and saw that the fire was already burning and her parents were curled up in each other's arms before it.

"Happy Christmas!" she said, holding a struggling Portia in her arms.

"Happy Christmas," he mother and father smiled.

"Now we can open presents!" he father said, excited as a schoolboy. Her mother slapped his arm gently as he scrambled away to claim the heavy package sent by Great-Aunt Guilia. Isabella joined him beneath the tree selecting a gift sent to her by her cousins.

"A book!" her father exclaimed triumphantly, tearing off the last bits of wrapping.

"How to be a Disappointing Nephew-In-Law?" her mother asked, cradling her morning coffee in one hand. Great-Aunt Guilia didn't _dislike_ her niece's husband, she just didn't approve of Isabella using her father's last name. Petrroci's usually went by the name Petrroci, whether they were married of not.

"Close," he father said, holding up the large volume. "Deadly Fungi of Finland."

"Why on earth would you go to Finland?" Isabella laughed, opening a fine kit for broomstick care. It was a beautiful leather case with an instruction manual written in Italian.

"No idea," her father said cheerfully, putting the book aside. Isabella's mother selected a gift of her own and set about opening it.

Great-Aunt Guilia had sent Isabella a knit hat and gloves; Uncle Luigi had given her an entire package of Italian sweets; her cousin Juliet and her husband Taddeo had bought her a set of brand new eagle feather quills; Grandfather Leonardo had sent "spending money" (about twenty Galleons) and several brand-new spell books. Her father had gotten her some grooming things for auguries and kneazles. Her mother had bought her a magnificent set of diamond earrings.

Isabella had given her father a book (big surprise) about Newt Scamander's travels in Southern Italy and Greece. She had also bought her mother and rather spectacular peacock feather quill simply to see if she would use it at work.

Morgan had sent her a box of Honeydukes sweets; Alex had bought her a notebook; and Luna had... well, Isabella wasn't quite certain what Luna had sent her.

It was an empty jar, so God knows what Luna thought was inside. Probably wrackspurts. Isabella did not open it.

In return, Isabella had sent Morgan a heart pendant, Alex a new book bag, and Luna a brand new copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them, because she knew her friend's copy was a little worn out.

Isabella, after a little hesitation, had sent Terry Boot a book called _Practical Defensive Magic and its Uses Against the Dark Arts. _She was glad she had, because Terry had also sent her a present. She opened it, then began to laugh uncontrollably.

"What is it?" he mother asked, tugging the book from its wrappings.

"Hang on," he dad grinned. "Isn't that...?" Terry had given her a copy of _Practical Defensive Magic and its Uses Against the Dark Arts._


	13. Valentine's Day

When Isabella returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break, things were decidedly not going well. She had sent a soothing letter to her father when she saw the _Prophet _article describing the breakout of ten high security prisoners. The letter had succeeded in stopping her father from coming and taking her out of Hogwarts, but she had completely forgotten the Petrrocis.

Ten owls descended on her one morning at breakfast. Great-Aunt Guilia stated that she was not surprised the English could not keep their prisoners. Uncle Luigi expressed concern about her staying in the country. Juliet and Taddeo were also worried, offering to come and personally collect her. Ale, Roberto, and Lorenzo all wrote, half-joking and half-deadly serious, that they were going to send howlers to Fudge. Ale also offered to fly over and come get her. There were others, more aunts and uncles and one or two second-cousins, all expressing concern and insisting she return to Villa Petrroci.

"Well, at least Grandfather didn't write," Isabella sighed, shooing away the owls who were threatening to step on her waffles.

"What would have happened if he did?" Morgan asked, trying to eat her scrambled eggs around an owl.

"I'd have had to go," Isabella shrugged. "No one refuses Leonardo Petrroci anything."

But her grandfather did write to her mother. She wasn't sure what exactly he had said, but her mother had been hard-pressed to convince him it was better to remain where they were. Her mother's letter to Isabella relating the incident was somewhat frantic and hassled. At least half the words that were supposed to be in Gaelic were in Latin, which just made everything more difficult.

Valentine's Day arrived and Terry and Isabella made plans to spend the day in Hogsmede together. It was a fresh, breezy sort of day and the High Street was full of students ambling up and down.

"So... where d'you want to go?" Terry asked and Isabella shrugged. They were holding hands and walking past shop windows, occasionally peering in. There were pictures of the ten escaped Death Eaters staring out of every shop window. It was the same poster, offering a ten thousand Galleon reward to any witch or wizard with information leading to the recapture of any of the convicts pictured. Isabella and Terry stopped outside Dervish and Bangs and looked over it.

"Of course no one will get the reward," Isabella said cynically. "They'll use the information to capture the Death Eater and then say someone else gave them information before hand."

"That's mental," Terry said as they moved away. "But probably true." It began to rain as they passed Scrivenshaft's; cold, heavy drops of water that soaked them through.

"Do you want to get a coffee?" said Isabella tentatively. Coffee was a fundamental part of Italian culture, and Hogwarts never seemed to have any.

"Yeah, all right," said Terry, looking around. "Where?"

"Cho told me about some place called Madam Puddifoot's," Isabella said. "I think it's just up the road." They hurried along the lane and ducked into a small, steamy teashop. The interior was cramped and everything was decorated in frills and little bows. Isabella was uncomfortably reminded of Umbridge's office.

Someone, presumably Madam Puddifoot, had decorated for Valentine's Day. There were a number of golden cherubs hovering over each of the small, circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

Isabella caught sight of Harry and Cho sitting down at the last remaining table together.

"Let's go," Isabella told Terry, turning and pushing her way out of the teashop. They stood outside in the rain for a moment, staring at the steam-filled windows.

"That was..." Terry said awkwardly, not wanting to insult the place in case Isabella had liked it, or thought it was cute or something.

"Revolting," Isabella finished firmly. "Come on, let's go to Honeydukes, or Zonkos or... or anywhere besides _there_." She said with an exaggerated shudder. Terry laughed and they crossed the street to where Honeydukes Sweet Shop was.

They entered the warm building, the scent of caramel and chocolate wrapping around them comfortingly. The sweet shop was packed with students enjoying their day off.

"This is more like it," Terry laughed, unwrapping his scarf and moving to the counter. There were fizzing whizbees, lemon drops, sugar quills, chocolate frogs, and enormous boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. Isabella selected a bag of lemon drops and popped one in her mouth, savoring the sweet and sour taste.

Terry took his time, looking over everything carefully. The shopkeeper finished helping a group of giggling Slytherins and caught sight of Terry. Isabella had moved a little away, admiring the display of licorice wands.

"Can I help you, young sir?" the shopkeeper, a rotund balding man wearing a red and white striped apron asked.

"Well, actually..." Terry said, looking over his shoulder at Isabella.

"Say no more, say no more," the shopkeeper assured him, following his gaze. He led Terry along the counter. The counter was glass at this end, revealing a stunning selection of chocolate covered strawberries and little slices of chocolate cake.

"Bella!" Terry called, and she turned with a smile. Her face lit up when she saw that he was carrying two chocolate strawberries. One was coated in dark chocolate with white swirls and the other was exactly the opposite.

"Terry, you shouldn't have!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.

They ran through the rain, falling hard and fast now, and ducked into the Three Broomsticks. They were laughing hard now, despite the fact that they were soaking wet. Sitting down at the bar they ordered sandwiches and Butterbeers.

They talked for a while, discussing Quidditch and the World Cup that had taken place last year. Isabella saw Luna enter with Hermione and some strange woman she thought looked vaguely familiar.

"Who's that?" she asked Terry, gesturing towards where the woman sat. The stranger had perfect blonde ringlets and a distinctly sour expression, like she'd been forced to swallow Stinksap.

"Uh, Reeta Skeeter I think," Terry said, squinting through the steamy bar. "Wasn't she a reporter or something?"

"Yes! She covered the Triwizard Tournament, didn't she?" Isabella said, suddenly remembering. "I thought she was retired." They watched as Hermione waved Harry over from another part of the bar.

"Doesn't look like it," Terry said. They finished their lunch and then headed out once more into the torrential rain. Isabella led Terry into Zonkos where they browsed around a little.

"I hope Fred and George get that joke shop set up," Isabella said, examining a piece of parchment designed to insult anyone who tried to read it. "They've got some really good ideas and a few pieces of amazing magic."

"Hmm," Terry shrugged non-commitally. He still felt a little jealous of the Weasley twins. They were older, and had a certain devil-may-care attitude that Isabella seemed to like. They were also gathering a certain glamorous quality, becoming more wealthy that any other member of their family. Not that Isabella really seemed to care that much about money, but Terry know that her grandfather expected her to marry well.

"...I said, do you want to head back now?" Isabella's voice interrupted his thoughts. He wondered guiltily how many times she had asked him.

"Oh, yeah I guess," Terry shrugged. "They haven't restocked in years." Isabella looked at him with an odd hurt expression. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she frowned. "Only I said about five minutes ago that they haven't restocked."


	14. Quidditch and Quibblers

It was the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game. It was also the first game in which Harry, Fred, and George would not be participating. Ravenclaw was divided in its support. Luna still wore her lion hat and Isabella borrowed Ginny Weasley's Gryffindor scarf and hat, but Morgan and Alex were supporting Hufflepuff. Well, as much as Alex would support Quidditch. Usually Alex was pretty good about looking interested when it came to Ravenclaw games, but that was only because Isabella was playing.

Now however, she had one over on Isabella as far as Quidditch was concerned. Gryffindor played horribly. Ron couldn't block a single goal; it might have been funny if it weren't so pathetic. One of the new Gryffindor Beaters accidentally hit Angelina in the head while swinging at a Bludger. By the time that the other Beater nearly fell off his broom when Zacharias Smith zoomed past, Isabella was really wishing she could Vanish Ginny's hat and scarf.

Ginny finally managed to catch the Snitch and Gryffindor only lost by ten points, two-hundred and forty to two-hundred and thirty. As Isabella left the pitch with the other Ravenclaws she caught sight of Fred and George.

They were looking miserable, trudging through the mud to the castle. Isabella nudged Morgan and the two of them followed the morose twins.

"Hey," Fred said glumly as the two girls caught up. "I see you made the mistake of supporting Gryffindor."

"Come on, it wasn't...um," Morgan trailed off.

"A complete disaster?" George laughed humorlessly. "Weren't you watching?" He waved his arms as though dog-paddling in a cruel but good imitation of Ron.

"Well, Ginny caught the Snitch," Isabella said bracingly.

"Yeah, whoop-dee-do," Fred held up a finger and twirled it lazily. Isabella slapped him and then George. Morgan giggled slightly at the shocked look on their faces.

"I knew she was going to do that," she confessed, green eyes sparkling. "She can't stand moping."

"Ginny did an amazing job!" Isabella hissed. "She's your sister! Go congratulate her!" Fred held a hand to his stinging face and looked at George, who grinned a little.

"Better than being turned into a bunny, I suppose," Fred smiled. "How come you always get us to see sense?"

"Look, if you're really that upset about not being allowed to play," Isabella said, her voice softening slightly. "My grandfather, Leonardo, could pull a few strings. Roberto is already on Padua Panthers."

It was the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game. It was also the first game in which Harry, Fred, and George would not be participating. Ravenclaw was divided in its support. Luna still wore her lion hat and Isabella borrowed Ginny Weasley's Gryffindor scarf and hat, but Morgan and Alex were supporting Hufflepuff. Well, as much as Alex would support Quidditch. Usually Alex was pretty good about looking interested when it came to Ravenclaw games, but that was only because Isabella was playing.

Now however, she had one over on Isabella as far as Quidditch was concerned. Gryffindor played horribly. Ron couldn't block a single goal; it might have been funny if it weren't so pathetic. One of the new Gryffindor Beaters accidentally hit Angelina in the head while swinging at a Bludger. By the time that the other Beater nearly fell off his broom when Zacharias Smith zoomed past, Isabella was really wishing she could Vanish Ginny's hat and scarf.

Ginny finally managed to catch the Snitch and Gryffindor only lost by ten points, two-hundred and forty to two-hundred and thirty. As Isabella left the pitch with the other Ravenclaws she caught sight of Fred and George.

They were looking miserable, trudging through the mud to the castle. Isabella nudged Morgan and the two of them followed the morose twins.

"Hey," Fred said glumly as the two girls caught up. "I see you made the mistake of supporting Gryffindor."

"Come on, it wasn't...um," Morgan trailed off.

"A complete disaster?" George laughed humorlessly. "Weren't you watching?" He waved his arms as though dog-paddling in a cruel but good imitation of Ron.

"Well, Ginny caught the Snitch," Isabella said bracingly.

"Yeah, whoop-dee-do," Fred held up a finger and twirled it lazily. Isabella slapped him and then George. Morgan giggled slightly at the shocked look on their faces.

"I knew she was going to do that," she confessed, green eyes sparkling. "She can't stand moping."

"Ginny did an amazing job!" Isabella hissed. "She's your sister! Go congratulate her!" Fred held a hand to his stinging face and looked at George, who grinned a little.

"Better than being turned into a bunny, I suppose," Fred smiled. "How come you always get us to see sense?"

"Look, if you're really that upset about not being allowed to play," Isabella said, her voice softening slightly. "My grandfather, Leonardo, could pull a few strings. Roberto is already on Padua Panthers."

"Nah, that's all right," George shrugged. "We weren't looking for careers as Beaters, or anything. Though it's good to see we are irreplaceable." He winced, recalling the two new Gryffindor beaters.

"Good morning," Luna said dreamily, sitting down at the Ravenclaw table.

"Morning, Luna," Isabella replied. Alex was too busy scribbling footnotes on her arithmancy essay to notice Luna's arrival.

"Would any one like a_ Quibbler_?" Luna asked, holding up a stack of the magazines. Morgan politely said no, but Isabella took one look at the front cover and practically grabbed it from Luna.

A picture of Harry grinned sheepishly up at her from the front cover. In large letters across the top were the words:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED

AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

"Luna did you do this?" Isabella asked, flipping open the magazine and finding the article.

"Oh yes, Daddy printed it," Luna said proudly. "It's gotten even more attention than the crumpled-horn snorkaks! Imagine that!" Isabella did not want to say that this was rather easier to imagine than as to why _anyone_ would even consider reading the _Quibbler _on a normal basis.

When Isabella first tried to help Luna hand out copies, she mostly got laughed at. But by mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over school.

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_Any student found in possession of the magazine _The Quibbler_ will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor._

Suddenly all twenty copies Isabella had been trying to hand out vanished. She barely had time to save her own copy from being taken. This last rather battered copy of the _Quibbler_ she bewitched to look like an extract from her Ancient Runes textbook.

"Daddy will have to reprint!" Luna said happily, but a little surprised. "No issue has ever sold faster!"

"That's great, Luna," Alex assured her happily.

"Stop right there!" The four of them froze. Professor Umbridge's face was a splotchy purple color that really clashed with her green tweed suit.

"Turn out your pockets!" the professor demanded. They hesitated, giving each other long sidelong looks. "Your pockets!" Professor Umbridge was practically screaming.

They pulled out quills, forgotten sweets, and pieces of lint. Luna's pockets included some strange bead-like objects and a few plimpies.

"The bags too!" Professor Umbridge demanded. Alex, Morgan, Luna, and Isabella opened their bookbags. The professor went through them carefully, picking up each book and flipping through it as though expecting a _Quibbler_ to fall out.

It was lucky that Alex had suggested Luna hide all of her old copies of the_ Quibbler _up in their dorm room, because Professor Umbridge paid particular attention to Luna's things. When she discovered a large onion-like plant at the bottom of Luna's bag, Professor Umbridge squirmed a little and let them go to Herbology.

"That was close," Isabella said under her breath as they crossed to the greenhouses. She shoved her Arithmancy book further into her bag as they apologized to Professor Sprout about being late. The teacher was in a good mood though, and randomly awarded Ravenclaw ten points when Luna passed her the dragon dung fertilizer.


	15. The Fall of Secrecy

The DA had finally started work on Patronuses, which everybody had been very keen to practice, though - as Harry kept reminding them - producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different from producing it when confronted by something like a Dementor.

"Oh, don't be such a kill joy," said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their last lesson before Easter. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry, patiently. "What we really need is a Boggart or something; that's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the Boggart was pretending to be a Dementor -"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender Brown, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. "And I still - can't - do it!" she added angrily.

Harry soothed her and went to help Neville. Isabella watched as her lion yawned and flopped on the floor.

"You would have an animal that sleeps," Alex laughed. She had only succeeded in forming a shield Patronus, and Morgan's face was screwed up in concentration as her wand produced mere wisps of silver mist. Luna watched her silvery hare hop about the room wildly.

The door of the Room of Requirement opened, and closed. Isabella fell silent as a tiny house-elf with large, ping-pong sized eyes squeezed past her. Villa Petrroci had a staff of five house-elves, but this one was very strange. He had about eight knit hats balanced between his large bat-like ears. His feet were equally swollen by the number of socks he wore.

The house-elf went up to Harry and tugged his sleeve. Harry looked down in astonishment and seemed to recognize the elf.

"Dobby!" he said. "What are you - What's wrong?"

The elf's eyes were wide with terror and he was shaking. Everybody stopped what they were doing to watch Dobby. Isabella's lion melted into the carpet at her feet, along with everyone else's Patronuses, leaving the room much darker than before.

"Harry Potter, sir..." squeaked the elf, trembling from head to foot. "Harry Potter, sir... Dobby has come to warn you... but the house-elves have been warned not to tell..." Suddenly the elf ran headfirst at the wall. Harry made to seize him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his eight hats. Isabella and a few other girls let of squeaks of fear and sympathy. The Petrroci elves never punished themselves, because they were ordered not to.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, grabbing he elf's tiny arm.

"Harry Potter... she... she..." Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist. Harry seized that, too.

"Who's 'she', Dobby?" But Isabella thought she knew; surely only one 'she' could induce such fear? The elf looked up at Harry, slightly cross-eyed and mouthed wordlessly.

"Umbridge?" asked Harry, horrified. Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head on Harry's knees. Harry held him at arm's length.

"What about her? Dobby - she hasn't found out about this - about us - about the DA?" He seemed to read the answer in the elf's stricken face. Dobby's little hands were held fast by Harry, so the elf tried to kick himself and fell to the floor.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly. Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his stockinged feet on the floor.

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!" Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through. Isabella was separated from Alex, Luna, and Morgan by the crowd. She saw Terry sprinting down the hallway, but then she was swept the other way. Hands grabbed her on either side; Fred and George were pulling her the other way.

"Come on, the dormitory's this way!" George gasped.

"Are... you... mental?" Isabella panted, pulling them through a secret passage. "The Owlery is right over here!" They burst out onto another corridor and dashed wildly along the passage. They slipped into the owlery, tripping over a few bones that lay on the floor. Isabella stopped and placed her hands on her knees, gasping slightly.

They waited for a few breathless moments, listening as feet pounded along the corridor. Argus Filch hobbled into the Owlery his jowls quivering with excitement and his face red with exertion.

"Aha!" he said triumphantly, pointing a crooked finger at the twins and Isabella. "Gotcha!"

"I beg your pardon?" Isabella asked, looking perfectly innocent and a little surprised.

"Don't play dumb with me girl!" Filch snarled, shuffling forward.

"I wasn't aware that I was playing anything, sir," Isabella replied, sounding calm and collected. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Rule breakers!" he cackled.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen anyone by that nature," Isabella said. "Unless you mean those two," she jabbed her thumb at Fred and George.

"Wha'?" Filch was beginning to look confused.

"I just came up here to send an owl," Isabella lied smoothly.

"All right, where's your letter then?" he demanded.

"I'm afraid I've already sent it, sir." Filch blinked as though he had been hit over the head. George slipped his wand behind his back and out of sight.

"Oh, right then," Filch said, looking confused. His eyes were blank and slightly unfocused. He stood for a moment, at a loss of what to do, then turned and shuffled away. Isabella waited until she could no longer hear his mumbling, then she smiled at George.

"Nice Confundus Charm!" she complimented.

"You sort of inspired me," George grinned. "In a sort of not breaking the rules way."

"What did you mean, 'unless you mean those two'?" Fred asked.

"I was trying to distance myself from you," she shrugged. "It would be more suspicious if a Ravenclaw and two Gryffindors were together on purpose than by coincidence. Besides, Filch hates you. I was getting myself out of danger zone."

"Thanks for that," Fred laughed. Then his face darkened. "I wonder who she's caught..."

"Only one way to find out," Isabella said. "Give me a few minutes head start to get back to Ravenclaw Tower before you head off." She went to the door and peeked out before calmly strolling away.


	16. Fireworks

_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight._

_Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic_

The notices had gone up all around the school overnight, but they did not explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister for Magic, and his Junior assistant to escape. Harry had told Ron, who told Ginny, who told Luna, who told Isabella, who spread it to the rest of the Ravenclaws. And, other than a few randomly bizarre mistakes, it was surprising how accurate the rest of their information was.

Marrietta (whom all Ravenclaws other than members of the DA referred to as 'Poor Marrietta') was in the hospital wing.

"I heard that Umbridge is offering extra credit to students who join this Inquisitorial Squad thing she's set up," Alex whispered to Morgan, Luna, and Isabella over lunch.

"That's mental!" Morgan said, a little too loudly. "Who'd want to join that but a Slytherin?"

"Forty points from Ravenclaw," someone drawled. It was Urqhart, a Slytherin Chaser. His pale, flabby face was alight with malice. "For calling our new headmistress 'mental'."

"It's only teachers who can dock points from houses," Morgan said, her green eyes ablaze with fury.

"Members of the Inquisitorial Squad can," Urqhart sniggered, pointing towards a tiny silver 'I' on his robes just beneath his prefect's badge. "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic."

As Urqhart sauntered away, the four Ravenclaws looked towards the giant hour-glasses set in niches along the wall, which recorded the house-points. A few sapphires flew upwards, reducing the amount in the lower bulb. Gryffindor had been neck and neck with Ravenclaw that morning, but now the numbers of rubies in the lower bulb was reduced by half. In fact, the only glass that seemed unchanged was the emerald-filled one of Slytherin.

BOOM! The entire Great Hall shook. Isabella exchanged shocked looks with Alex, then they sprang to their feet and joined the crowd rushing out to see the what the source of all the uproar was.

Somebody (Isabella was inclined to suspect Fred and George) had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.

Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Isabella looked.

Several of the dragons and a large purple bat swooped towards the doorway in which she stood. She ducked and they soared harmlessly overhead, off toward the second floor.

Umbridge and Filch stood in the middle of the hallway, apparently transfixed with horror.

"Hurry Filch, hurry!" shrieked Umbridge. "They'll be all over the school unless we do something - _Stupefy!_"

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in midair, it exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow; she ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the next painting, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her.

"Don't Stun them Filch!" shouted Umbridge angrily, for all the world as though it had been his incantation.

"Right you are, Headmistress," wheezed Filch. He dashed to a nearby cupboard, pulled out a broom and began swatting the fireworks in midair; within seconds the head of the broom was ablaze.

"They're escaping, Filch!" Umbridge yelled.

"All over the school..." Isabella repeated, turning to Morgan and Alex with an evil grin. They smiled back and then dashed away, throwing open doors and letting fireworks into every hallway and classroom. Isabella ushered a few Catherine wheels upstairs and left them on the third floor.

Soon all the members of the DA were helping. Isabella found Neville trying to open a fourth floor door, which a rocket was bumping against hopefully.

"That isn't a door," Isabella told him. "It's only a wall pretending to be one. Come on!" She and Neville helped the rocket into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, leaving it for Umbridge to deal with.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers didn't seem to mind them very much.

Professor Vector seemed supremely unbothered by the sparklers that wrote swear words, which had infiltrated her classroom during their arithmancy class.

"Oh dear," she said, only stopping the lesson when the sparklers moved to the chalkboard and stared to scribble on that. "Miss Waits, would you ming running along to the Headmistress and informing her that we have some rather rude fireworks in our classroom, there's a good girl." When Alex opened the door a green and gold dragon slipped in.

"Truly remarkable," Professor Vector commented, watching the dragon twist and twirl. Then a sparkler collided with the dragon in a huge BANG! Now the dragon spat fiery swear words instead of plain fireballs.

Professor Umbridge arrived, looking hassled. Her perfect hair was out of place and singed in some spots. Isabella wondered whether the rocket she and Neville had put in her classroom had done that.

Umbridge tried to Vanish the fireworks, with the delightful result of nine more swearing dragons erupting in midair and sailing away.

"Thank you," Professor Vector said sincerely. "Now class, turn to page 558 and numerical table number 57."

The last class of the day was Charms, and Isabella could have sworn that Professor Flitwick was intentionally letting in every type of firework the twins had created. When the last one, a large Catherine wheel, whizzed by with a sinister _'wheeeeee', _Professor Flitwick finally sent Collin Creevy to fetch the Headmistress.

Umbridge arrived as the final bell was ringing, looking very sooty-faced and dishevelled.

"Thank you so much, Professor!" said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. "I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether or not I had the _authority_." Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.

Isabella ran to catch up with Collin Creevy, who was at the far end of the corridor and turning to go down the marble staircase.

"Collin! Hey Collin!" she called. The little Gryffindor boy turned, blushed and dropped all his books. Isabella knelt and helped him collect them. "Listen Collin, can I borrow your camera tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Collin said shyly, glancing around to make sure his friends were watching him talk to the pretty Italian. He handed her the camera and she accepted it with a big smile, hugging Collin tightly.

That night Isabella sat beside the window of her dorm and snapped photos of the fireworks to send to her cousins. The blazes of the Catherine wheels were brighter against the dark night sky; the rockets shot past like streams of bright unicorn hair; and there were, or course, sparklers resolutely spelling out dirty words. She managed to get a good shot of the only swearing dragon that passed by Ravenclaw tower that night.


	17. Ravenclaw vs Slytherin

Luckily the fireworks seemed to fade away by the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game. It was always gratifying playing Slytherin, because nearly everyone rooted against the emerald-clad players.

Isabella went down to the changing room, leaving Alex, Morgan, and Luna to find seats. She pulled on her sky blue robes and tightened her ponytail. She could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectator's stand.

"Right everyone, gather round!" Roger Davis said bossily. The team came and sat down on the benches facing Roger, who looked over their expectant faces somberly. Roger gave them his pep-talk, which had yet to change since Isabella had joined the team.

"Well... it's time," he finished, checking his watch. "C'mon everyone... good luck."

The team rose, shouldered their brooms and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them, cheers and whistles coming from almost every section of the stands.

The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. Their Captain, Montague had vanished a few weeks ago, about when Umbridge became Headmistress. Urqhart had replaced Montague for the time being.

"Captians, shake hands," ordered the referee Madam Hooch, as Roger and Urqhart reached each other. Isabella could tell that Urqhart had picked up Montague's habit of trying to crush Roger's fingers. Roger could not help but wince slightly, making Urqhart smirk.

"Mount your brooms..." Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella saw Cory Johnston streak off towards the goal hoops. Isabella soared higher, dodging a Bludger, and followed the Slytherin Chaser Vaisey, who was in possession of the Quaffle.

"And they're off!" Lee's voice announced. "Vaisey - Vaisey with the Quaffle. Vaisy reverse passes to Urqhart - and did you see that? Ravenclaw Chaser Isabella O'Reagan snatches the Quaffle out of the air! She's heading for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good Bella! She shoots - she - oh, bad luck there Bella!

Slytherin Keeper Bletchley blocks and passes to Warrington. Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch - he dodges of Bludger from Hewgly... and drops the Quaffle! It's caught by Davies. Ravenclaw back in possession of the Quaffle, come on Davies - nice swerve around Pucey - _duck Davies, that's a Bludger!_ He passes to Chambers of Ravenclaw who approaches the Slytherin goal posts - HE SCORES! Ten-zero to Ravenclaw!"

Peter Chambers punched the air as he soared around the end of the pitch; the sea of blue below was screaming its delight -

"OUCH!" Peter was nearly thrown from his broom as Crabbe, a Slytherin Beater, went smashing into him.

"Sorry!" Crabbe sneered, as the crowd below booed. The next moment Nick had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Crabbe's head. Crabbe's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. "Penalty to Ravenclaw for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Beater!"

"Come off it, Miss!" Nick howled, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Isabella flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Bella!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO RAVENCLAW!"

Warrington flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Cory was hovering in front of the Ravenclaw goalposts, his jaw clenched.

"It's just Warrington and the Keeper," Lee commentated. "He shoots - and Johnston fails to block by _that_ much!" Isabella watched as the Quaffle slipped through Cory's fingertips and went through the far left goal. Cory snarled and hit his broomstick's handle.

"It's all right, Cory!" Roger said, circling the goal post. "Keep your head!"

"Once again the score is Twenty-ten to Ravenclaw," Lee said. "And it's Ravenclaw in possession, no, Slytherin in possession - no! - Ravenclaw back in possession and it's Roger Davies - THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Pucey, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Roger, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed his head. Roger wheeled through the air, slipping off his broom and dropping the Quaffle. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Pucey and began shouting at him.

Isabella, Nick, and Cho touched down. Roger had fallen about twenty feet, and had hit his head pretty hard.

"Roger, wake up!" Isabella begged, tugging on the unconscious Captain's robes. Roger groaned slightly. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall descended on the field, Madam Pomfrey scurrying after them. Flitwick and McGonagall shooed away the Ravenclaw team as Madam Pomfrey cracked one of Roger's eyelids open.

"He'll be perfectly all right!" Madam Pomfrey. "I'll just take him up to the hospital wing." Cho, Nick, and Isabella mounted their brooms again and kicked off. Peter Cambers took the penalty point, sending the Quaffle right through the Slytherin goal posts.

"THIRTY-TEN!" Lee shouted into his megaphone. "But that's Roger Davies, Captain of the Ravenclaw team, out of the competition. Will Ravenclaw manage to keep its lead? Chang has called for a time-out..."

"Right you lot," Cho said, gathering the team by Cory's goal posts. "We'll have to gone without Roger. Isabella, you take center."

"But Cho!" she started to protest.

"No, you've got the fastest broom," Cho insisted. "Peter, you help her out, you hear? All right, let's go." They flew off again, Isabella taking the center field, traditionally the position reserved for the best and most experienced Chaser. Madam Hooch gave Isabella the Quaffle, because Roger had had it before the penalty.

"It's Ravenclaw in possession again, as O'Reagan takes the Quaffle!" Lee said as they playing began again. "Warrington alongside her - turn him into a rabbit, Bella! - it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke - O'Reagan tries a pass to Chambers - intercepted! Warrington in possession, Warrington flying towards the Ravenclaw goalposts, come one, now, Johnston, save - YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Cory caught the Quaffle and threw it to Isabella. She streaked down the pitch with it, Nick and fellow Beater Jason Samuels flanking her.

"O'Reagan with the Quaffle, O'Reagan down the field - BLOODY HELL!" Lee swore. "WHY YOU DIRTY, CHEATING -!" Professor McGonagall took the magical megaphone away from Lee. On the far end of the field, the Slytherin Beater Goyle had sent a Bludger into Cory Johnston's stomach.

Cory fell off his broom and slammed against the goal post. He plummeted forty feet and lay on the sand. Madam Pomfrey returned to the pitch and escorted Cory away. He had only broken his arm during the fall, but he was very pale and swearing at the Slytherins at the top of his lungs.

"_You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!_" Madam Hooch shrieked at Goyle. "Ravenclaw penalty!"

Cho called yet another time out.

"What are we going to do?" Nick demanded, shouldering his Beater's bat.

"They're playing dirty, so you play dirty," Cho said fiercely. "Not you, Bella and Peter. Just get the Quaffle past that lump of a Seeker as often as you can! I'll try and find the Snitch and end this!"

"We've got no Keeper and only two Chasers," Cho continued. "So Nick, Jason, try and take out a few of their players. But for God's sake, don't let them get any penalties!"

Isabella scored the penalty point for Ravenclaw to tumultuous applause from below.

"Forty-ten to Ravenclaw," Lee announced. "And it's Pucey in possession of the Quaffle." Nick sent a Bludger towards Pucey, but the Slytherin rolled in mid-air and avoided it. Jason hovered near Isabella, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of taking her out, too.

Crabbe hit the Bludge that had missed Pucey back at Isabella. Jason gave an almighty swing, sending the Bludger back towards Pucey and knocking the Quaffle from the Chaser's hands; Isabella seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: fifty-ten.

Cheers came form the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff sections of the stands. Isabella punched the air and high-fived Cho as she sped by.

But as soon as Cho passed the Chaser she pulled into a sharp dive. She had caught sight of the Snitch. But Isabella couldn't worry about that now. Urqhart had the Quaffle and was speeding down the pitch with it. Nick and Jason shot Bludgers at him but the Chaser swerved and threw the Quaffle through the unguarded hoop.

"Penalty! Penalty to Ravenclaw! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched. Isabella braked and looked around, confused as to why they were being awarded a penalty.

It appeared as though Malfoy had elbowed Cho in the face. She had bruise blooming across her right cheek.

Isabella took the penalty yet again, but it was blocked by the Keeper. Peter swooped in and tried to grab the Quaffle, but Crabbe hit his broom with his Beater's bat. Peter managed to stay on, but Warrington claimed the Quaffle.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal - Warrington passes to Urqhart - Urkhart scores -" Lee was practically groaning. "Fifty-twenty to Ravenclaw... Peter Chambers gets the Quaffle for Ravenclaw. He passes to O'Reagan... she passes back... THIS ISN'T TENNIS!" Lee shouted. Isabella and Peter were passing the Quaffle back and forth so rapidly that the Slytherin Beaters couldn't keep up with who had it.

The Slytherin Chaser's were moving in between them, so Peter kept a hold of the Quaffle, moving closer to the goal. The Slytherin Keeper focused his attention on Peter until at the very last second he passed to Isabella. She shot it through goal, the Slytherin Keeper didn't even have time to turn his broom.

Peter swooped in behind and passed the ball back to Isabella, who scored again.

"That's incredible! What teamwork!" Lee complimented. "Seventy-twenty to - no, wait! - Eighty-twenty to Ravenclaw!" Nick and Jason moved in, blocking the Slytherin Chasers. Peter stayed behind the goal posts, catching the Quaffle as Isabella sent it sailing through again and again, and then passing it back for her.

By the time the Slytherin Beaters broke through Nick and Jason's defenses, Ravenclaw was ahead by seventy points. The Slytherins burst through, sending Nick and Jason wheeling away. Someone, possibly Crabbe slammed into Isabella. She tried to keep her hold on the Quaffle, but another pair of hands snatched it away.

All of the Slytherins turned and headed towards Cory's undefended goal hoops. Isabella's broom began to twirl lazily to the ground. She was winded and her vision was swimming. And then, fifty feet in the air, she slipped of the end off her broom. Peter was shouting her name... someone was screaming.

Lee's voice came over the megaphone: "CHANG HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! RAVENCLAW WINS!"

Isabella woke in the hospital wing. There was a swirl of blue that gradually came into focus. She was in a bed, still wearing her grass-stained and sweaty robes. The Ravenclaw team was standing nearby, hovering over Roger Davies.

"Is he okay?" Isabella croaked. The team turned and grinned to see her awake.

"Madam Pomfrey reckons he'll be fine," Nick said. "Has a bad bump on his head. You got off lucky, just broke a few ribs and sprained an ankle."

"We won, didn't we?" Isabella asked, sitting upright. There was a glass of water by her bed, which she took and drank gratefully.

"Yeah, we won," Peter smiled. "Don't know how we could've gone on if Cho hadn't caught the Snitch when she did." Cory was there, his arm well mended but still bruised. Suddenly the door of the hospital wing burst open and Terry, Alex, Morgan, Luna, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny burst in.

"Only six visitors at a time!" Madam Pomfrey moved to intercept them. Nick, Peter, Jason, Cho, and Cory turned back to Roger's bed so that Isabella's friends could see her. The Gryffindors in the approaching group left the Ravenclaws.

"You gave us a right turn!" Morgan scolded her, sitting down on the bed. "If Peter and Nick hadn't caught you...!" Isabella winced.

"That was the most brutal match I can remember!" Terry said, his face white.

"Quidditch is brutal," Alex said, frowning disapprovingly.

"But we won," Isabella said, taking Terry's hand. It was cold and clammy.

"Is winning all you care about?" Alex scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Roger will be happy," said Isabella, glancing at the unconscious Captain. Madam Pomfrey gave her one last look over, then sent her back up to the common room with the rest of the Ravenclaw team. They climbed the steps, too tired to speak much.

The raven brass knocker opened it's beak and asked, "What is fire?" The team looked at each other with dull eyes, unable to think.

"Um... a parasite?" Isabella said wearily. "Because it feed off others in order to live."

"Well considered," the knocker said, allowing them to pull the door open. Cheers greeted them. Cho and Isabella were lifted up and paraded around on people's shoulders. Blue banners with bronze lettering were strung around the room. Someone had been down to the kitchens and gotten some house-elves to give them food.

Isabella suspected that the reason everyone was celebrating so hard was that they were trying to forget Umbridge and her stupid Educational Decrees. The party did not last long, largely because the Quidditch team was so exhausted that they crept up to bed before eight o'clock.

Isabella started to write a letter to her cousins to go along with the pictures of the fireworks, but she fell asleep over the quill. Luna woke her up and helped her into bed. Her friend hummed softly to herself as she tucked Isabella in. The Chaser wanted to say thank you, but her eyelids were heavy and she was asleep once her head hit the pillow.


	18. Fred and George

"Psst, Bella!" Isabella had been on her way to History of Magic class when the whisper interrupted her thoughts. She stopped and looked around curiously, seeing no one in the corridor that she knew.

"Over here!" the voices hissed again. She frowned, and looked sharply at an inconspicuous wooden door. She looked around again, made sure no one was paying attention, then slipped inside.

Fred and George were on the other side of the door in an empty, unused classroom with the desks crowded up against the far sides of the walls.

"What's going on?" she asked, closing the door behind her. This room didn't have windows, so they were plunged into darkness.

"_Lumos,_" three voices said, and their wand tips lit the room. "Is something wrong?" Isabella asked, raising her wand a little higher so that its beam spread wider.

"No," Fred assured her. "D'you remember the fireworks?" Isabella's dark eyes shone.

"Who doesn't?" she asked. The twins grinned at her and stepped aside, revealing a smooth-sided box. She moved closer and held her wand up to it in order to read the words.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Portable Swamp," she read. "This magnificent marsh unfolds in thirty seconds flat, creating a decent-sized bog." Isabella looked up at the twins' proud expressions. "This is really advanced!" she said hesitantly. "But you know she'll expel you for sure..."

"Awh, we know," George shrugged. "But we've given up on Hogwarts. Not much here now that she's gotten rid of Quidditch and the DA..."

"Besides, it's not like we want to become Professors or anything," Fred continued. "We reckon we've got enough products now to open up a pretty good joke shop."

"So..." Isabella said in the dark silence. "What's the plan?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," George smiled. "What class have you got now?"

"History of Magic, Binns'll never notice," she assured them.

"We were thinking of setting it up in the east wing," Fred said, opening the door and peeking out. "Coast clear!" George and Isabella lifted the box together and shuffled out into the corridor.

"Which floor?" she asked as they set off down the hall. Fred went ahead, checking around corners before gesturing them forward.

"Fifth, I think," Fred said as they hurried across a wide corridor.

"I reckon that's far enough from Umbridge's office," George agreed.

"What's this got to do with her office?" Isabella asked curiously. Fred and George exchanged aggrieved looks.

"Sorry, we can't tell you that," Fred told her. They managed to heave the box up to the fifth floor, only having to hide behind a coat of arms from Mrs. Norris once along the way.

"Okay, we figure that setting it up right after the lessons will be the best time," George said, lowering the box onto the floor. Fred leant over and tore a paper that had been spell-o-taped onto the carton. He gave it to Isabella; it was a set of instructions on how to set up and dismantle the swamp.

"George, will you do the honors?" Fred asked. George nodded and pulled out his wand.

"_Incendio_," he said, and a small flame licked up from the tip of his wand. It caught the parchment in Isabella's hand and burned it away.

When the instruction sheet was completely ashes, Fred told them to step back. He lifted his wand and pointed it at the box.

"_Diffendo!_" he said. Then, "Quickly, run!" They pelted down the corridor. Isabella could almost hear the ticking of her watch as the seconds trickled by until there was a loud pop. Isabella felt thick, greenish brown mud splatter on her back.

The three of them ducked into a hidden shortcut and listened as students squealed with disgust. There was some shouting and squelching as people tried to get out of the magical bog. Someone was yelling for Professor Umbridge.

"That was way less than thirty seconds," Isabella whispered hotly, trying to wipe some of the mud from her neck.

"Yeah well, it's not perfect yet," Fred grinned. Isabella smiled at them, then leaned forward and kissed each of them on the cheek.

"I'll be sorry to see you go," she said sincerely. The twins had each put a hand to their cheeks, wearing the same slightly shocked expressions as when she had slapped them.

"Just be careful you don't come with us," George told her, trying to wipe a bit of mud from her cheek and only succeeding in smearing it.

Suddenly the tapestry they were hiding behind was thrown back. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, stood there with a vicious smile.

"I found them, Professor!" he shouted. "They're over... OOF!" Fred tackled Malfoy and sent the smaller boy flying. George and Isabella ran after him, slipping in the thick mud and pushing past students.

They came to the marble stairs and slid down them. Isabella tripped, her leg stuck in the trap stair. Fred and George were carried on by their own momentum and ran across the Entrance Hall. But the two great doors opened and students poured in from their Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Other students filled the Entrance Hall and stopped.

"Here, I'll help you." Isabella turned and saw Neville standing at her elbow. He grabbed her arm and with a low whine the trap stair released her leg.

"Thanks," Isabella told him, but her eyes were on the Weasley twins, who were trapped by the crowds below.

It was just like the night Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (quite a few covered in the Stinksap-like substance from Fred and George's swamp); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. The Inquisitorial Squad, who had lost Isabella in the crowd, were looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, having pushed to the front of the spectators. Peeves was bobbing overhead, gazing down at the Weasley twins who stood in the middle of the floor.

"So!" a small girlish voice said triumphantly. Isabella gulped, catching sight of Umbridge standing just a few stairs below her. "So - you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.

Filch elbowed his way toward Umbridge, looking gleeful.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving a piece of parchment. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... oh, let me do it now..." Isabella's stomach twisted slightly. _She's going to let him whip them?_

"Very good Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George. "Are about to learn what happens to wrong-doers in my school."

"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin, "George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.

"Definitely," said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together, "_Accio brooms!_"

Isabella heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking behind her, she ducked just in time. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling towards their owners; they streaked down the stairs and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting her own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent watchful crowd. He sent a small wink up at Isabella who smiled. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley - Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off form the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves." And Peeves, who Isabella had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his bellied hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out the open front doors into the glorious sunset.


	19. The Ambassador's Husband

A tall, well-dressed wizard Apparated right outside the gates of Hogwarts. He had neat brownish-blond hair and light hazel eyes framed by laugh lines. Now, however, he looked angry, his jaw and fists clenched as he strode up the front drive.

His brown traveling cloak billowed out behind him, revealing pressed brown khakis and a button-up blue shirt. The wizard climbed up the front steps and pushed open the tall door. He glanced into the Great Hall, then turned and went up the marble staircase. The man walked with purpose and direction, taking turns confidently and walking with a brisk stride.

He came to Professor Flitwick's classroom and threw open the doors. There was a lesson in progress, and all the students turned to stare at the tall man.

"Papi?" Isabella asked, standing up. Her father saw her and gestured for her to come over.

"Bella, go get you belongings," he ordered. "You're leaving."

"But..."

"Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan," his voice boomed. "Go pack your trunk." Isabella hurried to put her wand, quill, and books into her bookbag. She scrambled to the door, looking up at her father inquiringly. Professor Flitwick ran after them, stopping at the door and turning back towards his other students.

"Keep practicing!" he said in his high voice, before closing the door behind him.

"Bella, show me your hand." Isabella hesitated, then put her left hand in her father's open one. He hissed at the writing etched there in her skin.

"Mr. O'Reagan, what it the meaning of this?" the tiny Professor asked, his voice squeakier than usual.

"Your Headmistress's barbaric methods!" her father shouted, holding up Isabella's hurt hand for Professor Flitwick to see. "I'm not standing for it!"

"Please, Patrick, lower your voice!" Professor Flitwick begged.

"Isabella, go pack," her father said again.

"Where are we going?" she asked timidly, pulling her bookbag onto her shoulder.

"I don't know yet. Just go."

"Perhaps you'd like to see Professor Umbridge?" Professor Flitwick piped as Isabella hurried away to the Ravenclaw Tower. Mr. O'Reagan's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yes," he decided. "I most certainly would." He followed the dwarf up to Umbridge's office. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher sat in her room, sipping tea morosely. She was supposed to be having a lesson, but the entire class had come down with "Umbridge-itis" and left for the hospital wing.

Professor Flitwick knocked politely on the door. When there was no immediate answer, Mr. O'Reagan hammered on the door with his fist. The door swung open sharply and a very dishevelled looking Headmistress stood there.

"Professor Flitwick," she said in her sweetest voice. "Whatever is going on?" Isabella's father towered over her by at least a foot and a half, and every inch of him was seething with rage.

"This is Mr. O'Reagan," Flitwick squeaked. "His daughter is a fourth year in my house. Patrick, this is Headmistress Dolores Umbridge."

"How can I help you?" Professor Umbridge asked in a sugary voice.

"I've come to collect my daughter!" Mr. O'Reagan thundered in reply, causing Professors Flitwick and Umbridge to cower slightly. "I'm taking her away from this barbaric school with its medieval methods!" He pointed a long finger at Umbridge's nose, "Rest assured her grandfather will know about this! Leonardo Petrroci is not a man you wish to cross!"

"Leonardo Petrroci?" Umbridge's eyes were practically bulging. She turned to Flitwick for an explanation.

"Isabella's mother is Antonia Petrroci, the Italian ambassador," the Charms professor said. Umbridge's face drained of color, that came back in purple splotches.

"Oh. Um... yes," she spluttered. "Yes, of course... Professor Flitwick, would you mind escorting Mr. O'Reagan and his daughter down to the Great Hall. Get them some tea. I just need a few moments... to, um, well. Yes." She closed the door in their faces and could be heard on the other side, scrambling and muttering to herself.

"I'd rather not wait," Mr. O'Reagan said stiffly.

"Just for a few moments," Professor Flitwick assured him, patting his elbow. "Besides, I remember a young Hufflepuff who was very fond of our scones."

"But... Bella," the wizard protested feebly.

"I'll send her a note," Professor Flitwick assured him. He waved his wand and a silvery frog hopped away. They went down to the Great Hall together and Professor Flitwick rapped the table sharply with his wand.

"Tea, please," he said. An entire tea popped up; there was a tea pot, cream, sugar, several fruit scones, and whipped cream. Mr. O'Reagan grabbed on of the scones and sat down heavily, spreading whipped cream thickly over it. A tin of biscuits appeared at his elbow and he politely offered one to Professor Flitwick.

Isabella came hurrying down the marble stairs and into the Great Hall. Seeing her father sitting there, washing down his second scone with tea, her face broke into a relieved smile. She sat down next to him and he automatically put an arm around her shoulders. He rapped the table and ordered coffee. Isabella sipped the cup gratefully and leaned into her father.

"Tell me everything," he said firmly, helping himself to a third scone. Isabella took one, too, and nibbled at it.

"Everything?" she asked, picking a raisin from her scone.

"Absolutely everything." Isabella hesitated, then began the story with the DA. She explained about their lessons, the night they had been caught, Fred and George getting banned from Quidditch, Wildfire Whiz-bangs, and then the Portable Swamp. Her father's eyes were rather bright by the end of it and she anxiously awaited his verdict.

"They sound brilliant!" he father chuckled. "You know, Dora Tonks and I used to get into all sorts of trouble... not any as magnificent as your Fred and George, but..."

"You?" Isabella asked, laughing.

"Well, mainly it was nicking stuff from the kitchen," her father admitted.

"I seem to remember an infestation of glumbumbles," Professor Flitwick said dryly. Mr. O'Reagan smiled fondly at the memory.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Tonks and I got hundreds of the little creatures... we wanted to sell anti-hysteria tarts during our fifth year. Everyone who ate them became badly depressed."

"Yes, then they invaded the school beehives and ruined the honey!" Professor Flitwick said.

"I didn't know Hogwarts had beehives," Isabella commented, sipping her coffee.

"Not anymore," Professor Flitwick told her.

Just before dinner, Professor Umbridge came down the stairs. She had obviously just combed her hair and plastered a fake smile onto her face. Isabella saw a little soot on the Headmistress's collar, hinting at a trip by floo powder to the Ministry for Magic.

"I must apologize for this misunderstanding," Umbridge simpered. Isabella's father stood, a thunder cloud on his brow.

"Misunderstanding?" he growled. "My daughter tells me not only have you authorized this black magic for detentions, you are also allowing whippings! I won't stand it! Hogwarts really has gone downhill since I was here..."

"I'm sure you can arrange some changes," Umbridge said sweetly. She gave Isabella a pathetic attempt at a maternal smile.

"We'll that doesn't matter to me, either way," Mr. O'Reagan interrupted. "I'm transferring Isabella to the Academia de Italia. Her uncle Valentino Petrroci teaches there."

"I really don't think that's necessary, Mr. O'Reagan," said Umbridge. "I've just been visiting with Cornelius Fudge himself. We, that is to say, the Minister and myself, agree that things have gotten a little out of hand. Naturally, he'll be recalling the Approval for Whipping..."

"And what about this?" Isabella's father demanded pointing to her cut hand.

"My deepest apologies for that little piece of discipline," she simpered. "But your daughter was caught aiding and abetting two delinquents..."

"Aiding and abetting? Since when is it a crime to hide behind tapestries?" Mr. O'Reagan demanded. Isabella began to suspect he was enjoying himself. "Young people do that all the time with their boyfriends!" Isabella blushed scarlet.

"Her... boyfriends?" Umbridge spluttered, clearly shocked. "Both of them...?"

"Yes, have you got a problem with that?" Isabella's father asked, towering over Umbridge impressively.

"Um, no... not at all," she squeaked.

"Well, then," her father's voice lowered a little. "If this really is all a misunderstanding, I won't be contacting Leonardo Petrroci. But if my daughter sends me one more letter about being mistreated, I will put her in Academia de Italia before you can say Petrroci. I expect her grandfather will want to come pick her up." Umbridge cowered slightly.

"And of course," her father continued, his voice suddenly light and genial. "If she goes to school in Italy, her mother will naturally be recalled from your Ministry."

With that he turned and kissed Isabella's forehead, ruffled her hair, and left.


	20. The Final MatchStraw

The final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was to take place on the last weekend in May. Luna had traded out her roaring lion hat for what appeared to be a live eagle perched on top of her head.

Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since Fred and George had left, was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out on to the pitch he named the players with something less than his usual gusto.

"Johnston... Hewgly... Samuels...Chambers...O'Reagan... Davies...Chang," he said as the Ravenclaws walked out on to the pitch. Cho was discussing wind conditions with Roger, and Isabella took advantage of the moment to nod at a very green-looking Ron Weasley.

"Good luck," she told him. He gave her a petrified nod and Angelina flashed a smile at her. They mounted their brooms and kicked away from the ground.

"And they're off!" said Lee. "And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well... he's going straight for goal! He's going to shoot - and - and -" Lee swore very loudly. "And he's scored."

"So that's Ten-nil to Ravenclaw," Lee continued, sounding less than enthusiastic. "Gryffindor Captain Angelina Johnson takes possession of the Quaffle - she dodges a Bludger from Samuels - she's streaking up the pitch - she shoots - SHE SCORES! Ten-ten, tied!"

A great roar rose from the stands below them. Isabella zoomed forward and flew neck and neck with Peter.

"Chambers with the Quaffle," Lee announced. "O'Reagan flanking him - they're not taking any chances after their last match against Slytherin - Chambers moves in for the score - come on, Ron! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! I HONESTLY CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW! Ron Weasley blocks!"

The see of scarlet below screamed with delight, nearly drowning out the Slytherin chorus of 'Weasley is our King'. Roger had been flying lower than Isabella and Peter, he caught the deflected Quaffle and tossed it up to Isabella, who swerved to avoid a Bludger from the Gryffindor Beaters.

She aimed for the highest post but, remarkably, Ron managed to dart in front of it and catch the Quaffle.

"Another blocked goal!" Lee howled in triumph. "Ron passes to Katie Bell - Bell heads up the pitch - she reverse-passes to Spinnet who prepares to shoot - YES! Twenty-ten to Gryffindor."

"Davies in possession of the Quaffle - he passes to O'Reagan. Hewgly and Samuels move in to flank her -" Isabella bent low over her broom, her eyes fixed on the clear shot she had across the field. Ron was bobbing in front of the goalposts looking nervous and expectant. Isabella feinted to the left and tossed the ball towards the right-most goal post.

Ron somehow anticipate her trick and had dodged to protect the right goalpost. He kicked the Quaffle away and the sea of scarlet shrieked with pleasure.

"Another block by Ron Weasley!" Lee shouted. "Angelina once more takes possession of the Quaffle - _Bludger from Hewgly! -_" Lee warned the Gryffindor Chaser, who rolled in mid-air. Isabella and Roger swooped in, hoping she would drop the Quaffle, but Angelina righted herself and sped away.

Roger and Isabella flew side by side, following the tail of Angelina's broom. She glanced back nervously and veered away, swooping low over the stands and around one of the towers.

Isabella split, leaving Roger to follow Angelina and circling the opposite way of the tower. When the Gryffindor Chaser emerged on the other side, Isabella blocked her way with her broom. Angelina swerved right, but Isabella followed her and blocked her way again.

"STOP DANCING AND PLAY!" Lee thundered. Angelina glared at Isabella and tried to pass the Quaffle to Alicia over the Ravenclaw's head. Isabella shot straight into the air and intercepted the ball.

Twisting upside-down in a loop-the-loop, Isabella pulled away and flew down the pitch back towards the Gryffindor hoops. She was too high to score, so she dropped the Quaffle into Peter's waiting arms.

"O'Reagan makes a last minute pass to team-mate Chambers," Lee observed. "He shoots - Weasley blocks!" Ron hit the ball from his goal-post, sending it flying away. Isabella and Peter dove after it, nearly colliding with Katie Bell.

It was a hard game. Ron seemed impassable, despite Roger and Isabella's best throws. During the time out, Roger changed the focus of the team to defense.

"I'm sorry," Cory blushed.

"No, you're doing great," Roger assured the Keeper, who was letting in every other goal. "We just can't get past Ron..." The Slytherins had stopped singing that annoying song, but the Gryffindors had taken the lyrics and adjusted them so that by the time Ravenclaw got back in the game the Gryffindor section of the stands was belting the words:

"Weasley is our King

Weasley is our King

He didn't let the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King.

Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing

Weasley is our King."

"Back from our break, and the score is still Sixty-ten to Gryffindor," Lee's voice boomed over the singing.

The game did not improve for Ravenclaw. The Chasers could not seem to score any goals and the Gryffindors simply ducked under Nick and Jason's furious onslaught as they tried to defend Cory.

"O'Reagan takes possession of the Quaffle - she's heading up the pitch - WHAM! A Bludger from Jack Slope hits her - she looks okay - but drops the Quaffle..."

One of the Gryffindor Beaters finally managed to pull himself together and send a Bludger slamming into Isabella's stomach. Or, more likely, he had accidentally hit the Bludger and it sped off towards her by chance. Either way, Isabella's breath was punched out of her and she dropped the Quaffle.

"Bell catches the Quaffle - she shoots - and Johnston barely saves it!" Cory caught the Quaffle and fumbled, sending it tumbling into Alicia Spinnet's arms rather than passing it to Peter.

"What's going on at that end of the pitch?" Lee asked, drawing attention away from where Alica was ducking Hewgly's Bludger attack. "It looks like the Seekers have spotted the Snitch!" Isabella wheeled her broom around and saw Cho diving straight down wards. But Ginny Weasley, the Gryffindor Seeker, was coming in at an angle.

Ginny reached out her hand and snatched the tiny golden ball from under Cho's nose. The Ravenclaw blinked in surprise and pulled her broom out of its dive, her face white with anger.

Cho stumbled to a landing and tossed her broom aside. Isabella touched down, too, suddenly feeling heavy. The Ravenclaw team slowly moved towards where Cho was throwing a tantrum, kicking her broom and crying with anger.

Peter put his arm around Isabella and she patted Nick on the back. Jason ran a hand across his tired face.

"Where the bloody hell did that come from?" Cory asked, glaring as Ron was lifted onto the shoulders of the Gryffindors.

"No idea," Roger sighed. "Come on, team. Let's see if we can find some Butterbeer." They headed up to the castle, morose and silent. Cho was still crying angrily, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

The Ravenclaw Common Room had that same depressed air. No one greeted them as they entered. The team slumped onto the couches and armchairs surrounding the fireplace. Portia jumped up into Isabella's lap purring quietly.

Terry Boot was slumped over one of the tables, scribbling furiously. Isabella frowned, snuggling deeper into her armchair.

"Terry, did you even go to the match?" she asked bitterly. He blinked and looked up, stretching his stiff fingers.

"Oh, was that today?" he asked his eyes unfocused. He began to flip through his notes and Isabella scowled, standing up.

"You didn't even come down to see us lose?" she demanded angrily. Terry didn't look up from his notes.

"You lost? Why?" Terry finally found the page of notes he had been searching for and he began to scan down the page.

"Well, if you'd been there you would have seen!" Isabella said, her voice getting louder and angrier. The other members of the team were watching with a sort of horrified fascination.

"I've got my OWLs coming up," Terry protested, still not looking at her. "I've got to revise..."

"My boyfriend should have been there when we lost the Quidditch Cup!" Isabella was yelling now, still clutching a squirming Portia in her arms.

"Look, Quidditch isn't as important..." Terry began to shout, standing up too. Isabella let out a frustrated scream and pulled out her wand. There was a loud bang, after which Isabella ran upstairs, crying.

Terry was not the only fifth year concerned about his upcoming exams Ernie Macmillan had developed an irritating habit of interrogating people about their revision practices.

"How many hours d'you think you're doing a day?" he demanded of Harry and Ron as they queued outside Herbology, a manic gleam in his eyes.

"I dunno," said Ron. "A few."

"More or less than eight?"

"Less, I s'pose," said Ron, looking slightly alarmed.

"I'm doing eight," said Ernie, puffing out his chest. "Eight or nine. I'm getting an hour in before breakfast every day. Eight's my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. Not so good on Tuesday - only seven and a quarter. Then on Wednesday -"

Thankfully, Professor Sprout ushered them into the greenhouse at that point, forcing Ernie to abandon his recital.

"Course, Terry Boot started about a week ago, but then -" Ernie tried to continue under his breath.

"Enough chitter chatter," Professor Sprout interrupted. "Continue where you left off!" Harry, Ron and Ernie moved to their trays of Fanged Geraniums. The flowers snarled as they approached and took a snap at Ron's hand.

"What happened to Terry?" Harry asked Ernie while trying to avoid the geranium's teeth.

"Didn't you hear?" Ernie asked in surprise. "He and Bella had a row. They were arguing and she pulled out her wand. Turned him into a dog."

"A dog?" Ron asked in surprised. He yelped as the flowers bit him and began to suck his hurt finger.

"Said he was acting like one," Ernie shrugged.

"Well, McGonagall or Madam Pomrey put him right, didn't they?" Ron asked, checking to make sure Professor Sprout wasn't watching before he clobbered the Fanged Geranium's with a watering can. They flowers hissed and cowered away.

"Madam Pomfrey couldn't!" Ernie said, awe-struck. "Professor McGonagall tried to make Isabella change him back, but she wouldn't!"

"Bet you she makes an Outstanding on her Transfiguration OWL," Ron muttered to himself, attacking the Fanged Geraniums with a pair of shears.


	21. Sleepless Night

Isabella was sleeping soundly, Portia lying across her head, when Alex roughly shook her awake.

"What?" Isabella snarled, sitting up. She had been in a foul mood since she broke up with Terry and she was never very happy when someone woke her up.

"It's Hagrid!" Morgan said, sitting by the window and looking out. Her green eyes were wide, reflecting jets of red light. "They're trying to sack him, I think!" Isabella scrambled out of bed, tossing the blanket over Portia in the process and causing her to yowl indignantly. Isabella squeezed next to Luna and pressed her face to the glass.

Outside on the lawn there was a disturbance; people were standing outside of Hagrid's cabin and were firing spells at him. The jets of red light seemed to bounce off him; and he was still upright and clearly fighting. Isabella could just hears cries and shouts through the window.

She could see the tiny outline of Hagrid's dog, she thought he might be called Fang, attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping repeatedly as the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell caught him and he fell to the ground.

Hagrid's distant howl of fury came across the grounds to Ravenclaw tower as he lifted culprit bodily from the ground and threw him; the man flew what looked like ten feet and did not get up again. Next to Isabella, Luna gasped, both hands over her mouth.

"You don't think he's hurt him, do you?" Morgan asked worriedly, her nose squashed against the window.

Suddenly the front doors of the castle opened, light spilling out onto the lawn and a single long black shadow was now rippling across the lawn. Isabella recognized the tall hat and tartan dressing gown at the same time as Alex.

"Professor McGonagall!" Alex whispered in alarm. The Transfiguration teacher was apparently yelling, running through the darkness and shaking her fists at the wizards attacking Hagrid.

Isabella screamed, and heard several other girls echo her from the floors above and below.

The figures around the cabin had turned and shot no fewer than four Stunners at Professor McGonagall. Halfway between the cabin and the castle the red beams collided with her; for a moment she looked luminous and glowed an eerie red, then she lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back and moved no more.

"... cowards... ruddy cowards..." Hagrids voice trickled up to them, "... have some o' that... an' that..." Hagrid took two massive swipes at his closest attackers; judging from their immediate collapse, they had been knocked cold. Hagrid bent down and scooped up Fang, draping the dog's limp body about his shoulders.

Hagrid turned and began to run with Fang still hung around his neck. Someone sent one last Stunning Spell at him but it missed; and Hagrid, still running at full-pelt towards the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

There was a long quivering silence, broken only by Morgan's quiet sobs, as they all stared open-mouthed into the grounds.

Isabella stood suddenly and dragged her bed-robe over her.

"Where are you going?" Alex asked. "It's after hours!" But Isabella didn't answer, merely slipped on a pair of slippers and ran downstairs. Luna hurried after her, not bothering with shoes or a coat.

They ran through the castle and out onto the grounds. Professor McGonagall was lying on the cold grass, looking pale and small. Professors Flitwick and Sprout knelt next to her.

"Girls, it's after hours!" Professor Sprout clucked as Luna and Isabella ran up.

"It's all right, Pomona," Professor Flitwick assured her in a high squeak. "Miss Lovegood, would you kindly fetch Madam Pomrey? Miss O'Reagan, see if Professor Snape is awake, then send a letter to Saint Mungo's."

"What about Professor Umbridge?" Isabella asked as Luna ran away, her bare feet swishing through the grass.

"I believe our Headmistress already knows what has happened," Professor Sprout said, her voice colder than Isabella had ever heard it. The girl turned and looked towards Hagrid's cabin wonderingly, seeing a squat little figure berating the other wizards.

"Miss O'Reagan, there's no time to waste!" Professor Flitwick scolded. Isabella ran, her robe flapping out behind her and her thin slippers soaked through with dew. She hurtled down the steps to the dungeons and knocked on Professor Snape's door. It swung open quickly and a livid looking Snape stood there.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he sneered. "Get back to Ravenclaw tower at..."

"It's Professor McGonagall, sir," Isabella panted. "She was hit... four Stunning Spells..."

"Where?" Professor Snape demanded stepping into the hallway and snapping the heavy door shut behind him. He still wore his customary black robes, and Isabella wondered what time he was planning on going to bed.

"On the grounds," she told him. "Professors Flitwick and Sprout are with her..." Snape walked back up the corridor, his robes billowing like some horrible wings behind him. Isabella followed in his wake nervously.

"Go back to bed at once," Snape ordered her.

"But, sir, Professor Flitwick wanted me to send an owl to St. Mungo's..."

"Then hurry up about it. If I see you out of bed any longer than you need to be tonight..." Isabella took the threat and ran past him, heading for the Owlery. She was about to choose one of the school owls, preferably the fastest one she could find, when Castro fluttered near, looking sad. She hesitated, but remembered her father telling her that auguries were faster than owls.

Isabella scribbled a hasty note describing what had happened and attached the parchment to Castro's legs. She moved to the window with him perched on her arm.

"Haste, mia bella," she told him. He ruffled his bottle green feathers and shot away into the night. Isabella trotted back to Ravenclaw Tower. The fifth years had come back from taking their exams on the Astronomy tower. Almost everyone was up, and Isabella could see that Luna had returned.

"When I returned with Madam Pomfrey they sent me away," Luna said, looking a little tearful. "I think they carried Professor McGonagall up into the castle behind me."

"Madam Pomfrey will sort her out," Alex said, trying and failing to sound confident. Isabella and Luna exchanged looks; Professor McGonagall had looked so very frail and small lying there on the grass.

"Does anyone know if Umbridge was involved?" one of the third years asked.

"We think so," Anthony Goldstein said.

"She was," Isabella said darkly. "Flitwick told me." There was a murmur as people digested this news.

"Everyone. Bed. Now." Penelope Clearwater, one of the Ravenclaw prefects, ordered sharply. People milled around uncertainly, but gradually retired to their dormitories, still whispering and speculating about what had taken place.

Isabella climbed into bed, ignoring Alex and Morgan's whispered conversation. She took Portia off her pillow and clutched her to her chest. Gradually her friends stopped talking and drifted off to their beds. Isabella stayed awake, comforted by Portia's warm presence.

Professor McGonagall had always been Isabella's favorite teacher. She desperately wanted to be as talented as her, and had since arriving at Hogwarts her first year. Eventually, Isabella fell asleep, a few tears still tracing their way down her cheeks.


	22. A Strange Turn of Events

"You can't come down here," Luna was informing a crowd of people. "Someone's let off Garroting Gas just along here..."

"Luna, what on earth are you on about this time?" Alex asked, pushing her way through the grumbling crowd.

"You have to go by the Swivelling Staricase," Luna insisted in her dreamy, vacant voice. "There's Garroting Gas in this hallway..." Isabella arched her eyebrow at Morgan and Alex, who shrugged and went back a different way. People complained, but eventually went around, not wanting to be late for lessons.

"Luna, what's really going on?" Isabella asked as the surrounding area cleared.

"Harry's trying to get in touch with Stubby Boardman," Luna said sincerely. Isabella ignored this comment, having roomed with Luna for almost four years.

"Okay, what did Harry _actually _say?" she tried again. But Luna's dreamy eyes widened at something behind Isabella's back and she began to hum nervously.

"What is it?" Isabella demanded. Luna began to sing softly, then louder and louder. Ginny Weasley, at the other end of the hall, turned and joined in.

"WEASLEY IS OUR KING

WEASLEY IS OUR KING..."

"Don't sing that song, Luna," Isabella sighed, still hurt at losing the game to Gryffindor. But suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a fat hand clamped over her mouth. Isabella tried to bite the hand, but her assailant's other hand was groping for her wand. Someone moved into her vision Isabella recognized the Slytherin Beater, Crabbe, seizing Luna by her long dirty blonde hair. A large Slytherin boy came at Ginny, who tried to run, but was caught roughly by the arm.

Neville came out of nowhere, trying to punch the boy holding Ginny. The bigger boy laughed cruelly and punched Neville hard so that he stumbled back into the arms of Warrington, the Slytherin Chaser.

Umbridge hurried along the corridor, tearing her office door open and rushing inside. Isabella, Luna, Neville, and Ginny were pinned against the wall and gagged roughly. Isabella kicked the soft stomach of the boy holding her and he moaned and doubled over. Isabella tried to wrest her wand from him, but two other members of the Inquisitorial Squad twisted her arms behind her back.

Another one of the came up, dragging Ron in a headlock. Gagging him too, the five of them were dragged into Umbridge's office.

Hermione was inside, pinioned against the wall by a large Slytherin girl. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw a wand into the air one-handed and caught it again. Harry was struggling to stand, and it looked as though he had been thrown against the desk bodily.

"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forwards into the room. "_That_ one," he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking _her_," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her. "So I brought him along too."

"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed loudly. Umbridge gave a wide, complacent smile that faded quickly when she set eyes on Isabella. She settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair and looked at the girl with displeasure.

"Whatever shall I do with our little Italian?" she asked. She nodded to someone behind Isabella and the girl felt a fist connect with her jaw. She fought wildly to get her arms free, but the meaty fingers tightened mercilessly. Umbridge seemed satisfied with that and settled for looking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.

"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron - Malfoy laughed even louder - "to tell me the poltergeist was wrecking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes - Mr. Filch having just informed me so. Clearly it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone."

Isabella gave a strangled yell and tried to launch herself at Umbridge. She was thrown backwards against the wall and her head cracked against the stone, leaving her slightly dazed. The members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled, looking at Isabella with some concern. Umbridge's face seemed to tighten.

"Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr. Potter... I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco - fetch Professor Snape."

Malfoy stowed the stolen wand inside his robe and left the room smirking. There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resulting from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. Isabella was still too dazed to do much.

Ron's lip was bleeding on to Umbridge's carpet as he struggled against Warrington's half-nelson; Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip; Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Crabbe's arms; and Hermione was attempting, in vain, to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out the window as though rather bored by the proceedings. Isabella hung limply from the arms of the two Slytherins holding her. She recognized one as Goyle and the other as Pucey.

At last Draco Malfoy re-entered the room, closely followed by Snape.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, surveying her coolly through her greasy curtains of black hair.

"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A _month_? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!" The thought of Stubby Boardman entered Isabella's mind, but she pushed it away firmly.

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked round at Harry. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" repeated Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly. "That I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter - and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did - I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling." Snape looked back at Harry, who stared at him almost desperately.

"You are on probation!" shrieked Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave.

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry suddenly shouted at Snape's back. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!" Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape looked around at Harry. His face was inscrutable.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job. Pucey, Goyle, be careful with O'Reagan. She, like the relationship between the Ministry and Italy, is delicate."

Isabella could have moaned with relief as the grip on her arms was lessened greatly. Snape close the door behind him with a snap.

"Very well," Umbridge said, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well... I am left with no alternative... this is more than a matter of school discipline... this is an issue of Ministry security... yes... yes..." She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm an breathing heavily.

"You are forcing me, Potter... I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot. "But sometimes circumstances justify the use... I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice..."

Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.

"No!" shrieked Hermione. "Professor Umbridge - it's illegal." But Umbrdige took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Isabella had never seen before. She raised her wand. "_Cruc-_"

"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind the Slytherin girl. "No - Harry - we'll have to tell her!"

"No way!" yelled Harry, staring at Hermione.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's... what's the point?" And Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of her captor's robes. The girl stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

"Er - my - nee - no!" shouted Ron through his gag. Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before. Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her, too.

"I'm - I'm sorry everyone," said Hermione. "But - I can't stand it -"

"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. "Now then... with whom was Potter communicating just now?" Isabella half-expected the wizarding rockstar to be named at this point.

"Well," gulped Hermione into her hands. "Well, he was _trying_ to speak to Professor Dumbledore." Ron froze, his eyes wide. Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captors toes, and even Luna looked mildly surprised. Isabella, who had absolutely no idea whom Harry had really been trying to talk to, just stood still.

"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"

"Well... no!" sobbed Hermione. "But - but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, holding her hands tightly over her face.

"Yes?" said Umbridge excitedly. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We... we... wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.

"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"

"The... the weapon," said Hermione.

"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seem to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course? What kind of weapon is it?" asked Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.

"We don't r-r-really understand it," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do." Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.

"Lead me to the weapon," she said.

"I'm not showing... _them_," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.

"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly.

"Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again. "Fine... let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right - oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"

These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge; she glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face. Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment, then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice.

"All right, dear, let's make it just you and me... and we'll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now. You two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on."


	23. Thestrals

Isabella watched as the Harry and Hermione left the room, Umbridge following close behind with her wand trained on their backs. Malfoy looked moody, his lip pouted out as he kicked the chintz armchair. Isabella watched, trying to look as though Malfoy had her full attention. In reality, her hand was inching towards Pucey's pocket, where she could just see her wand poking out.

"Well, Weezle-bee, this looks like the end of the road for you," Malfoy sneered, apparently having decided to vent his anger on Ron. "You'll be expelled for sure. What will your dear mother say? Not that you had much hope, with brains like yours... You must get it from your stupid father."

The Slytherins guffawed loudly. Isabella's fingers brushed against her wand, pretending to watch Ron's face grow redder. Malfoy continued to taunt Ron as Isabella slid the handle of her wand into her palm. She had never had to pull off a spell without speaking, but the gag in her mouth and the current situation might create a great enough need for her to succeed.

"Oi! What are you doing?" Pucey had noticed Isabella as she pulled her wand from his pocket. Suddenly, Malfoy's nose bulged dangerously and bogeys, equipped with small bat wings, poured from his nose. They surrounded Malfoy, attacking his head. Without any further prompting, the five captives broke free, snatching wands back from the Inquisitorial Squad.

Ron ducked Warrington's surprised jinx, pulling off his gag and shooting a Stunning Spell at the Slytherin, who dodged. The spell ricocheted off one of the kitten printed plates and hit Crabbe in the face. The Slytherin's eyes rolled up into his head and he crumpled to the floor, releasing Neville.

Neville scrambled for his own wand and stopped Pucey in his tracks with an Impediment Jinx. Luna disarmed the tall Slytherin girl who had been Hermione's captor, then Stunned her. For a moment, Warrington, Pucey, Goyle, and the other Slytherin girl advanced on them.

"_Abe segnis!_" Isabella shouted the incantation, waving her wand wildly. The Slytherins shrunk with a series of small pops, and their skin became greenish yellow and slimy. Five slugs squirmed on Umbridge's carpet. The bogeys that had assailed Malfoy gave up, circling the slug he had turned into lazily.

"I wish I had salt," Ginny said, curling her lip in disgust.

"They're cute," Luna rebuked, kneeling down and plucking up the Goyle-slug.

"Luna, don't do that," Isabella sighed in exasperation; Neville took on a distinctly green tone. Ron stooped and picked up the wand Malfoy had been tossing in the air, he also tugged another wand from the Stunned girl's robes.

"Come on, let's find Harry and Hermione," he said, pocketing their wands.

"I think they went into the Forbidden Forest," Luna told them, plucking all the slugs off the carpet and placing them tenderly on Umbridge's desk.

"Why on earth would they go in there?" Ginny asked, peering out the window into the dusky half-light.

"I have a really good idea," Ron said, watching as a flock of birds suddenly took flight from the forest and clattered away. "I just hope I'm wrong." They walked down onto the grounds, carefully edging past the Great Hall where dinner was finishing up and running down the steps.

When they came to the edge of the forest Isabella and Neville hung back, looking at the dark trees uncertainly.

"Did you really see them go this way, Luna?" Isabella asked, eyeing the woods with trepidation.

"Oh, yes," Luna said skipping ahead cheerfully. Isabella gave Neville a look that was half exasperated and half resigned. She followed Ginny and Ron into the forest, Neville and Luna close behind her.

"Do you know where we're going?" Neville asked, his face sweaty and pale.

"Pretty good idea," Ron said, pushing his way around a bush.

"How do you think Harry intends for us to get to London?" Ginny asked Ron quietly. Isabella frowned, confused. Last she had heard, Harry was attempting to contact Stubby Boardman, wizarding rockstar. No one had said anything to _her _about London.

"Us?" Ron glowered at his younger sister over his shoulder. "You aren't coming."

"Don't be silly," said Ginny, her sweater getting snagged on a branch. "We're all coming."

"It's too dangerous!" Ron argued, stumbling around a thorn bush, his hands getting cut on the spiky branches.

"I thought that's what the DA was about," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "Defending ourselves."

"Yeah defending ourselves, not going off looking for danger," Ron muttered coming to the far side of the thicket.

"Will someone tell me what is going on?" Isabella demanded, gasping slightly in pain as her hair tangled in a low-lying branch.

"Yeah, me too," Neville panted, stopping for a moment, his hands on his knees.

"And don't give me all this nonsense about Stubby Boardman and Padfoot and - and whatever else it was," Isabella said, swatting away a few gnats. Ron and Ginny took turns explaining everything on the way.

Isabella now knew that mass murderer Sirius Black, who had been blamed for the recent Azkaban break-out, was actually innocent, Harry's godfather, and being tortured by Lord Voldemort in order to gain some sort of weapon hidden in the Department of Mysteries.

"And you know this... because Harry's got a headache?" Isabella confirmed, skeptical.

"I don't exactly understand it," Ron said. "But it's got something to do with Harry being able to see into You-Know-Who's mind. And yeah, it makes his scar hurt."

"Hmm," Isabella hummed, decidedly not convinced.

"But that still leaves the question of how we're going to get to the Minsitry," Neville wheezed, tripping over his shoelaces.

"Look, you lot aren't coming!" Ron insisted. "Just me, Hermione, and Harry."

"Shh," Isabella hushed them. "I think I hear voices." She nodded discreetly up ahead and everyone fell silent to listen.

"... anyway, Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?" Ron grinned when he heard Hermione's voice.

"Yeah, we were just wondering that," he said. Harry and Hermione, in a glade just ahead of them, moved together instinctively and peered through the trees. Isabella noticed that the two of them were covered in some sort of thick liquid; she strongly suspected blood, though clearly not their own for lack of injuries. Ron pushed aside a low-hanging branch and moved into their view.

"So," he said, holding out Harry's wand. "Have any ideas?"

"How did you get away?" asked Harry, clearly amazed and taking his wand from Ron.

"Couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx," said Ron airily, now handing Hermione back her wand, too. "But Ginny and Bella were the best. Ginny got Malfoy - Bat Bogey Hex - it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. And then Bella turned the lot of them into slugs - Luna was all for keeping them as pets..."

"No I wasn't," Luna argued. "I just thought they looked charming."

"Anyway," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "We saw you out of the window heading into the Forest and followed..."

"We?" interrupted Isabella, arching her eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine, Luna saw," Ron consented. "What've you done with Umbridge?"

"She got carried away," said Harry. "By a herd of centaurs."

"And they left you behind?" asked Ginny, looking astonished.

"No, they got chased off by Grawp," said Harry.

"Who's Grawp?" Luna asked interestedly.

"Hagrid's little brother," said Ron promptly. "Anyway, never mind that now Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or -?"

"Yes," said Harry. "And I'm sure Sirius is still alive -"

"Un momento," Isabella said, holding up one finger. "I thought this connection or whatever it is was certain. You _don't know_ if You-Know-Who has Sirius or not?"

"Look that's too complicated to explain right now," Harry said impatiently. "I still can't see how we're going to get there to help him." They all fell silent, looking rather scared; the problem facing them seemed insurmountable.

"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" said Luna, in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice Isabella had ever heard her use when not discussing Crumple-horned Snorkaks.

"OK," said Harry irritably, rounding on her. "First of all, 'we' aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that, and second or all, Ron's the only one with a broomstick not being guarded by a security troll, so -"

"I've got a broom!" said Ginny.

"So do I!" Isabella exclaimed indignantly. "And don't talk to Luna that way!"

"Yeah, but you aren't coming," Ron said to Ginny angrily, ignoring Isabella.

"Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!" said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.

"You're too -" Harry began, but Ginny said fiercely, "I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher's Stone."

"And it's because of me that the Inquisitorial Squad is sliming up Umbridge's office," Isabella said haughtily.

"Yeah, but -" Harry tried again.

"We're all in the DA together," said Neville quietly. "It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real - or was that all just a game or something?"

"No - of course it wasn't -" said Harry impatiently.

"Then we should come too," said Neville simply. "We want to help."

"That's right," said Luna, smiling happily. Harry looked at Ron, and they shared an annoyed look.

"Well, it doesn't matter, anyway," said Harry through gritted teeth. "Because we still don't know how to get there -"

"I thought we'd settled that," said Luna maddeningly. "We're flying!"

"Look," said Ron, his anger simmering just under the surface. "You might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout winds whenever we -"

"There are ways of flying other than broomsticks," said Luna serenely.

"I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?" Ron demanded.

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkak can't fly," said Luna in a dignified voice. "But _they_ can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding placed their riders are looking for."

They all turned and looked in the direction Luna was pointing. There were two trees on the far side of the glade, standing a little way apart and making the impression of two pillars.

"Yes!" Harry whispered, moving forwards toward them. Harry stretched out his hand eagerly and patted the thin air in front of him.

"Is it those mad horse things?" said Ron uneasily, staring at the empty space next to Harry. "Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?" Isabella thought this a fairly crude description, but she still couldn't see anything next to Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"How many?"

"Just two."

"Well, we need three," said Hermione, who was still looking a little shaken, but determined just the same.

"Four, Hermione," said Ginny, scowling.

"I think there are seven of us, actually," said Luna calmly, counting.

"Don't be stupid, we can't all go!" said Harry angrily. "Look, you four -" he pointed at Neville, Ginny, Isabella, and Luna, "you're not involved in this, you're not -" They burst into more protests and Harry looked pained.

"OK, fine, it's your choice," he said curtly, "but unless we can find more Thestrals you're not going to be able -"

"Oh, more of them will come," said Isabella confidently.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood," she said cooly. "And I know my father lures Thestrals with raw meat. That's probably why these two turned up in the first place." Harry looked down at his sleeve, which was damp with blood.

"OK, then," he said. "Ron and I will take these two and go ahead, and Hermione can stay here with you three and she'll attract more Threstrals -"

"I'm not staying behind!" said Hermione furiously.

"There's no need," said Luna, smiling. "Look, here come more now... you two must really smell..."

"All right," Harry said angrily, looking through the trees and clearly irritated that some plan to leave Luna, Ginny, Neville, and Isabella behind had failed. "Pick one and get on, then."

With that, Harry clenched his fist over something in mid-air, placed a foot on a stump nearby, and scrambled onto his invisible mount. He settled himself there for a moment and looked around. Neville was heaving himself onto some unseen back and Luna sat serenely in midair. Ron, Hermione, Isabella, and Ginny, however, were still standing motionless on the spot, open-mouthed and staring.

"What?" Harry said.

"How're we supposed to get on?" said Ron faintly. "When we can't see the things?"

"Oh, it's easy," said Luna, sliding down from her levitating perch and marching over to them. "Come here..."

She pulled them to different places around the clearing and helped get them onto their invisible steeds. She wound something thick and glossy into Isabella's hand and she gripped the unseen mane tightly and squeezed her knees tightly.

"This is mad," Ron murmured, moving his free hand gingerly up and down in midair, evidently petting his Thestral's neck. "Mad... if I could just see it -"

"How about I drop dead for you?" Isabella said, her mouth dry.

"You'd better hope it stays invisible," Harry agreed. "We all ready, then?" They all nodded and Isabella tightened her knees' grip. "OK..."

Harry looked down and nervously said, "Ministry of Magic, visitors' entrance, London, then." For a moment nothing happened, then there was a snapping noise, like wings sweeping open.

Isabella screamed as she felt herself rocketed upwards so fast and so steeply that she had to clench her arms and legs tightly around her invisible horse to avoid sliding backwards off it. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into its warm but see-through mane as they burst through the topmost branches of the trees and soared out into a blood-red sunset.

Isabella did not think she had ever moved so fast, not even when she had once stolen Roberto's Silver Arrow racing broom. She streaked over the castle, the cooling air slapping her face, and her eyes screwed up against the rushing wind. She kept her face forward and focused on where Hermione, screaming at the top of her lungs, was being hurled through the evening sky.

They were over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmede; Isabella could see mountains and gullies below her feet.

"This is bizarre!" Ron yelled from somewhere up ahead. Isabella silently agreed; she was frozen and her body cramping from the cold, but she dared not move. Finally, her eyes closed to block out the dizzying height which they had ascended, she buried her face in the invisible mane of her Thestral and did not open them for the rest of the journey.


	24. The English Ministry

Isabella's stomach jolted and she could hear herself shriek as she suddenly felt herself plummeting. It was only the feel of sliding a few inches forward on something that convinced Isabella the Threstral had not vanished from beneath her. But she kept her eyes tightly shut as the ground hurtled up to meet her.

And without warning they came to a light stop. Isabella's dark eyes flew open in surprise and she found herself hovering few feet above the ground. They had landed. Isabella slipped off the Thestral and could have kissed the pavement. She refrained, seeing Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny already standing nearby. Neville jumped down from his perch, shaking, and Luna dismounted smoothly.

"Where do we go from here, then?" Luna asked Harry in a politely interested voice, as though this was a rather interesting day-trip.

"Over here," he said. He gave the air next to him a quick, grateful pat, then led the way quickly to a battered telephone box and opened the door. "Come _on!_" he urged the rest of them, as they hesitated. Ron and Ginny marched in obediently, as did Isabella. It was a much tighter squeeze than the visitors' entrance for the Italian Ministry, which was hidden behind the Trevi Fountain in Rome, but Hermione, Neville, and Luna squashed themselves in after them. Harry took one glance toward the street, then forced himself in the box after Luna.

"Whoever's nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two!" he said. Isabella did it, her arm bent strangely over Ginny's head to reach the dial; as it whirred back into place a cool female voice sounded inside the box.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger," Harry said very quickly. "Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Bella O'Reagan... we're here to save someone, unless your Ministry can do it first!"

"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes." Seven badges slid out of the metal shoot. Isabella scooped them up and examined them. To her surprise, one of them had her full name written on it, _Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan, Rescue Mission._ She pocketed hers and handed the rest to Harry.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

"Fine!" said Harry loudly. "Now can we _move_?" The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past its glass windows; blackness closed over their heads and with a dull grinding noise they sank down into the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

A chink of soft golden light hit Isabella's tennis shoes and, widening, rose up her body to illuminate the entire telephone box. Harry ducked down, apparently trying to see better.

Isabella looked over the Atrium with a critical glance. She had been here with her mother and father when Antonia Petrroci was welcomed, and had found it ornate for the sake of being ornate, rather than the simple marble columns of the Italian Ministry. The large golden fountain was particularly ungraceful and awkward, with a witch, a wizard, a goblin, a house-elf, and a centaur instead of the beautiful statue of Hecate, goddess of magic, surrounded by her jewel-studded dragon attendants.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening," said the woman's voice. The door of the telephone box burst open; Harry, Neville, and Luna toppled out. The only sound in the Atrium was the steady rush of water from the golden fountain.

"Come on," said Harry quietly and the seven of them sprinted off down the hall, Harry in the lead, past the fountain towards a desk labeled 'Security'. Isabella felt a small twinge of foreboding that the desk was deserted.

They passed through the golden gates to the lifts and Harry punched the nearest 'down' button. A lift clattered into sight almost immediately, the golden grilles slid apart with a great, echoing clanking and they dashed inside. Harry stabbed the number nine button; the grilles closed with a bang and the lift began to descend, jangling and rattling.

"Department of Mysteries," the cool female voice said, and the grilles slid open. They stepped out in a corridor where nothing was moving but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift. Isabella looked over the dark walls tiled with smooth blocks and was reminded, with a chill, of the catacombs beneath Rome.

"Let's go," Harry whispered, and he led the way down the corridor.

"OK, listen," said Harry stopping again within six feet of the door. "Maybe... maybe a couple of people should stay here as a - as a lookout, and -"

"And how're we supposed to let you know something's coming?" asked Ginny, her eyebrows raised. "You could be miles away."

"We're coming with you, Harry," said Neville.

"Let's get on with it," said Ron firmly. Harry hesitated, then turned to face a plain, unadorned black door. It swung open and he marched over the threshold, the others at his heels.

They were standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black, including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handleless black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue; their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor made it look as though there were dark water underfoot.

"Someone shut the door," Harry muttered. Neville obeyed, and the room became so dark that for a moment the only things they could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections in the floor. There was a great rumbling noise and the candles began to move sideways. The circular wall was rotating.

Isabella grabbed Neville and Luna's arms in case the floor might move, too, but it did not. For a few seconds the blue flames around them were blurred into lines as the wall sped around; then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary once again.

"What was that about?" whispered Ron fearfully.

"Which door did we come in through?" Isabella asked, looking over her shoulder at the door behind her. Every one of the black doors looked exactly the same.

"How're we going to get back out?" said Neville uncomfortably.

"Well, that doesn't matter now," said Harry forcefully, blinking rapidly. "We won't need to get out till we've found Sirius -"

"Where do we go, then, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I don't -" Harry began. He swallowed. "In the dreams I went through the door at the end of the corridor form the lifts into a dark room - that's this one - and then I went through another door into a room that kind of... glitters. We should try a few doors," he said hastily. "I'll know the right way when I see it. C'mon." Isabella wanted to shout that Harry wasn't dreaming now, that this was real, but she bit her tongue and followed him to one of the doors. She raised her wand, prepared to strike the moment the door opened.

Harry pushed and the door swung open easily. This long, rectangular room was lit by lamps hanging low on golden chains from the ceiling. The place was quite empty except a few desks and, in the very middle of the room, an enormous glass tank of deep green liquid, big enough for half a dozen men to swim in; a number of pearly-white objects were drifting lazily in it.

"What're those things?" whispered Ron.

"Dunno," said Harry.

"Are their fish?" breathed Ginny.

"Aquavirius Maggots!" said Luna excitedly. "Dad said the Ministry were breeding -"

"Luna!" Isabella hissed. "Now's not the time for Aquavarius-"

"No," said Hermione. She sounded odd. She moved forward to look through the side of the tank. "They're brains."

"_Brains?_"

"Yes... I wonder what they're doing with them?" Harry joined her at the tank, but the rest of them hung back. Isabella felt ill and she turned her face away from the eerily glimmering things.

"Let's get out of here," said Harry. "This isn't right, we need to try another door."

"There are doors here, too," said Isabella, pointing around the walls.

"In my dream I went through that dark room into the second one," Harry said. "I think we should go back and try from there." So they hurried back into the dark, circular room.

"Wait!"said Hermione sharply, as Luna made to close the door of the brain room behind them. "_Flagrate!_" She drew with her wand in midair and a fiery 'X' appeared on the door. No sooner had the door clicked shut behind them than there was a great rumbling, and once again the wall began to revolve very fast, but now there was a great red-gold blur in amongst the faint blue and, when all became still again, the fiery cross still burned, showing the door they had already tried.

"Good thinking," said Harry. "OK, let's try this one -" He strode directly at the door facing him and pushed it open, his wand still raised.


	25. The Archway

This room was larger than the last, dimly lit and rectangular and the center of the room was sunken. Isabella was irresistibly reminded of an amphitheater; they were standing on the topmost tier of stone benches that ran all around the room and descended in steep steps.

At the bottom was a dais on which stood a stone archway that was ancient, cracked, and crumbling. A tattered black curtain hung from it and, despite the cold stillness of the air, the veil fluttered very slightly.

"Who's there?" said Harry, jumping down on to the bench below.

"Careful!" whispered Hermione. Harry scrambled down the benches until he reached the bottom. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked slowly toward the dais. Isabella had thought the archway to be Roman or Grecian at first, but now she looked closer and saw that it was pointed in the Gothic style. She followed Harry, climbing down to get a closer look. When she stood at its base, the arch looked much taller than it had when she'd been looking down on it from above. Isabella extended a hand and gently touched the rough surface of the stone dais.

"Let's go," called Hermione from halfway up the stone steps. "This isn't right, Harry, Bella, come on, let's go." She sounded scared, but Isabella thought the archway had a kind of beauty about it, heightened by its age.

"Harry, Bella, let's go, OK?" said Hermione more forcefully.

"OK," Harry said, but he did not move. He stood still for a moment, watching the veil flutter. Isabella frowned, she did not like the veil; it was as though some unworthy curtain had been drawn over a stain-glass window and she wanted to pull it aside and reveal... what?

"What are you saying?" Harry said, very loudly, so that his words echoed around the stone benches.

"Nobody's talking, Harry!" said Hermione, now moving over to him.

"Someone's whispering behind there," he said, moving out of her reach and continuing to frown at the veil. "Is that you, Bella?"

"No, I'm over here," she said, her voice sounding distant in her own ears. She put her foot on the dais, intent on climbing up and seeing what the curtain was hiding...

"Can't anyone else hear it?" Harry demanded.

"I can hear them too," breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. Everyone looked at the veil, Isabella thought crossly, couldn't they see that the arch would be so much more beautiful without that tattered rag?

"There are people _in there_!" Luna said, her voice rising slightly.

"What do you mean, '_in there'_?" demanded Hermione, jumping down from the bottom step and sounding very angry. "There in't any _'in there'_, it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there. Harry, stop it, come away -" She grabbed his arm and pulled, but he resisted.

"Harry, we are supposed to be here for Sirius!" she said in a high-pitched, strained voice.

"Sirius," Harry repeated, still gazing, mesmerized, at the continuously swaying veil. "Yeah..."

Isabella ignored him, pushing herself onto the dais and moving over to the curtain as though in a daze.

"Bella!" The call came to her from a distance, as though her ears were stuffed with beeswax; she couldn't summon the energy to heed the muffled voice. She walked forward, her arm extended before her to draw back the black cloth and step inside...

Something slammed into her side and tore her gaze away from the archway. Isabella toppled off the dais and landed heavily on the floor. Neville and Ron were on top of her, holding her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked them, throwing them off indignantly.

"You were going to go through the archway!" Neville said, standing and offering her his hand.

"No I wasn't," she growled, taking the hand and pulling herself to her feet. "I was just going to look..." she trailed off, horrified at what might have happened if the boys hadn't stopped her.

"Let's go," Ginny said, giving Isabella a long, odd look. They all marched back up the steps and clambered through the door.

"What do you reckon that arch was?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it was dangerous," she said firmly, again inscribing a fiery cross on the door. Harry turned and confronted Isabella who jumped guiltily, her thoughts back on the archway.

"Did you hear the voices?" Harry asked. Isabella frowned and shook her head.

"There were no voices," she maintained as the walls began to spin and become still again. Harry turned away from her and approached another door and pushed. It did not move.

"What's wrong?" said Hermione.

"It's... locked..." said Harry, throwing his weight at the door, but it didn't budge.

"This is it, then, isn't it?" said Ron excitedly, joining Harry in the attempt to force the door open. "Bound to be!"

"It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream," said Hermione, marking the door with another fiery cross.

"As long as we have a firm basis for everything we're doing," Isabella grumbled to herself.

"You know what could be in there?" said Luna eagerly.

"Something blibbering, no doubt," said Hermione under her breath and Neville gave a nervous little laugh. Isabella glared at him and he quickly fell silent and adopted a somber expression.

"_This is it!_" Harry shouted, stopping all further arguments but opening another door. This room was filled with clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. A towering crystal bell jar stood at the far end of the room.

"This way!" Harry ordered, leading the way down the narrow space between the lines of desks and past the bell jar to the only door behind it.

"This is it," Harry said again. "It's through here." Isabella clutched her wand tightly as Harry pushed the door open.


	26. Dreams and Shadows

It was as high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing form more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Their flames were burning blue and the room was very cold.

Isabella strained her ears for voices, but heard nothing. Harry edged forwards and peered down one of the shadowy aisles.

"You said it was row ninety-seven," whispered Hermione.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, looking up at the end of the closest row. A tiny silver figure fifty-three glimmered there.

"We need to go right, I think," whispered Hermione, squinting to the next row. "Yes... that's fifty-four."

"Keep your wands ready," Harry said softly. They crept forwards, glancing behind them nervously. There were tiny, yellowing labels stuck beneath each of the glass orbs on the shelves. Isabella strained her ears growing more nervous as each silent second ticked by. If Sirius Black was being tortured, surely there would be some sound?

"Ninety-seven!" whispered Hermione. They stood grouped at the end of the row, gazing down the alley beside it.

"He's right down at the end," said Harry. "You can't see properly from here." And he led them between the towering rows of glass balls.

"He should be near here," whispered Harry expectantly. "Anywhere here... really close..."

"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.

"Somewhere about... here..." he said. Isabella looked around the echoing, dusty silence.

"He might be..." Harry whispered hoarsely, looking down the next alley. "Or maybe..." He hurried to look down the one beyond that.

"Harry?" said Hermione again.

"What?" he snarled.

"I... I don't think Sirius is here." Nobody spoke, and Harry refused to meet their eyes. Harry ran up the rows, staring down them, and then ran back, searching.

"Harry?" Ron called.

"What?" Harry was still avoiding their eyes, and Isabella could not help but glare accusingly at him. _"But, of course he isn't here! We are chasing dreams and shadows... dreams and shadows..."_ she thought, but then a vision of the archway flickered across her mind. She was glad she had come, if only to see that beautiful gateway.

"Have you seen this?" said Ron.

"What?" said Harry, but eagerly this time. He found Ron staring at one of the dusty glass spheres on the shelf.

"What?" Harry repeated glumly.

"It's - it's got your name on it," said Ron. He was pointing at one of the particularly dusty spheres.

"My name?" said Harry blankly, moving forward a little bit. He stared up at the yellowed label and read its spindly writing.

"What is it?" asked Ron, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?" He looked along at the other labels on that stretch of shelf. "I'm not here. None of the rest of us are here," Ron continued, sounding perplexed.

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it," said Hermione sharply as he stretched out his hand.

"Why not?" he said. "It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Don't, Harry," said Neville suddenly. His round face was shining slightly with sweat.

"It's got my name on," said Harry. His fingers closed around the dusty ball's surface and lifted it down from his shelf to stare at it. Nothing happened, so the others moved in closer to watch as Harry brushed the dust off it.

And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice spoke.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Black shapes emerged from the darkness all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts.

"To me, Potter," repeated Lucius Malfoy. Isabella recognized him, he had once invited them to dinner, but had been slightly irritated that the Petrrocis did not share his prejudice views. Malfoy held out his hand, palm up.

"To me," he said yet again.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry said. Several of the Death Eaters laughed; a harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures said triumphantly, "The Dark Lord always knows!"

"Always," echoed Malfoy softly. "Now, give me the prophecy, Potter."

"I want to know where Sirius is!"

"_I want to know where Sirius is!_" mimicked the woman. The Death Eaters closed in so that they were mere feet away.

"You've got him," said Harry. "He's here. I know he is."

"_The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,_" said the woman in a horrible, mock baby voice.

"Don't do anything," Harry muttered as his friends stirred slightly. "Not yet -" The woman screamed with laughter.

"You hear him? _You hear him_? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!"

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," said Malfoy softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. _Now give me the prophesy, Potter_."

"I know Sirius is here," said Harry. "I know you've got him!"

"Harry, Sirius isn't here!" Isabella shouted, pointing her wand shakily at the Death Eaters in front of her. "He never was! They just wanted you to think he was!"

"Very good," Malfoy said softly. "Miss... Petrroci, I believe? See Potter, you friend knows the difference between life and dreams. Now, give me the prophecy, or we start using wands."

"Go on, then," said Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. As he did so, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna followed suit. Isabella already had her wand raised. But the Death Eaters did not strike.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," said Malfoy coolly.

"Yeah, right!" Harry laughed humorlessly. "I give you this - prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?"

The female Death Eater shrieked: "_Accio proph-"_

"_Protego!_" Harry shouted, prepared. Isabella saw the glass ball buck slightly in his hand, but he managed to cling to it.

"Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter," she said. "Very well, then -"

"I TOLD YOU,NO!" Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. "If you smash it -!" The woman stepped forward, away from her fellows, and pulled off her hood. Isabella recognized Bellatrix Lestrange from the pictures of the Azakaban breakout.

"You need more persuasion?" she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Very well - take the smallest one," she ordered the Death Eater beside her. "Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

Isabella moved to her left so that her shoulder was brushing Ron's. Ginny was now behind them, blocked from the Death Eater's view.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us," Harry told Bellatrix, standing directly in front of Ginny. "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?" Isabella could no longer see Bellatrix, but the silence told her everything.

"So," said Harry. "What kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?" His voice carried the distinct casual tone of someone who wants to keep talking. Isabella's mind raced. She might be able to turn her opponents into frogs, but who knew if they could turn themselves back? And then they would _really_ be in trouble.

"What kind of prophecy?" repeated Bellatrix. "You jest Potter."

"Nope, not jesting," said Harry. "How come Voldemort wants it?" Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.

"You dare speak his name?" whispered Bellatrix. "_STUPEF-_"

"NO!"

There was a flash of red light, but Malfoy deflected the spell and caused hers to hit one of the shelves and several of the glass orbs there were shattered.

Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of glass at Isabella's feet. Each began to speak, their voices vying with each other, so that only fragments of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts.

"_... at the solstice will come a new..." _said the figure of an old, bearded man.

"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!" bawled Mafloy.

"He dared - he dares -" shrieked Bellatrix incoherently. "He stands there - flithy half-blood -"

"_... and none will come after..._" said the figure of a young woman. The two figures that had burst from the shattered spheres melted into thin air.

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," Harry said.

"Do not play games with us, Potter," said Malfoy.

"I'm not playing games," said Harry, a little distractedly, or so it seemed to Isabella.

"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?" Malfoy sneered.

"I - what?" said Harry. "What about my scar?"

"Can this be?" said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again. "Dumbledore never told you? Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording..."

"Did he?" said Harry. "So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?"

"_Why?_" Malfoy repeated with a malicious sneer. "Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, as those about whom it was made -"

"Smash shells." Isabella heard Luna whisper in her ear. She froze, puzzled. Luna was very odd, but what on earth was she talking about? Shells...? Isabella's eyes flickered to the glass fragments at her feet and realized what Luna was telling her.

"- haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?" Malfoy was asked Harry. Isabella used the cover of Harry's reply to lean closer to Ron and hiss under her breath.

"_Smash shelves_." She didn't look at Ron, terrified of bringing attention to her whispered message.

"Get it himself?" shrieked Bellatrix, over a cackle of mad laughter at something Harry had said. "The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?"

Isabella remembered in a flash that she had read that Bellatrix was Sirius Black's cousin. She readjusted her aim so that while she appeared to be aiming at on of the Death Eater's faces, she was actually focusing on the shelf behind him.

"So he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?" said Harry. "like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it - and Bode?" Isabella had no idea what Harry was talking about, but evidently Malfoy did.

"Very good, Potter, very good..." he said slowly. "But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell-"

"NOW!" yelled Harry. Isabella shouted, "_Reducto!_" and shot her curse at the shelf, which exploded when hit; the towering structure swaying as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and floated there, their voices echoing amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor.


	27. The Bellas

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and Isabella darted forward with no second bidding. She followed Harry and Hermione as they elbowed their way through the Death Eaters. The way ahead was clear and Ron, Ginny, and Luna sprinted onwards, their arms over their heads.

Hands grabbed Isabella from behind and she was lifted off her feet. She squirmed and struggled wildly, getting her wand hand free.

"GOT ONE! I GOT -!" The man's deep bellow died into a chittering squeak. His arms dropped away from Isabella as they grew smaller and furrier. She did not stop to look what animal he had turned into, being too busy sprinted ahead.

The spell she had caught her attacker with was what Professor McGonagall called a "Inmorphication." It transformed the subject into whatever animal they were most like. An Inmorphication was quick and long-lasting, but a strong minded witch or wizard could break out of it. Isabella prayed the Death Eater wasn't strong minded as she shot down one of the alleys.

The door was just ahead, Luna, Ginny, and Ron were slipping through it. Isabella put on an extra burst of speed, launching herself over the threshold.

But this room was much darker than the Hall of Time. In fact, it was almost pitch-black except for the soft glow of large, different colored orbs that hung in midair. Isabella looked down at her feet, but she could not see the floor beneath them, only nothingness...

"Where are we?" Ron asked fearfully. "Where's Harry?"

"I think that's Uranus," Isabella whispered, poking a gently hovering blue ball. At her touch it shivered slightly, its narrow ring humming softly. The swirling azure surface grew brighter, lighting up the faces of Ron, Ginny, and Luna.

But the door burst open again and four tall, dark figures ran in.

"_Stupefy!_" one of them shouted, but Isabella dove aside. The jet of red light hit Uranus, which shuddered again and took on a purplish tone.

"_Abe avis!_" Isabella shouted, pointing her wand at one of the Death Eaters. He grew glossy black feathers and flew away, cawing loudly. As the raven left the room, Ron sent a Disarming charm at one of the Death Eaters. That one's wand flew away into the darkness, but his companion hit Ron full in the face with a jet of orange light.

"Petrificas totalus!" Luna said, having taken refuge behind the shelter of Jupiter. The one who'd shot Ron went stiff and toppled over.

"Ron, are you OK?" Isabella asked, ducking under Saturn's rings and going to where the boy lay on the floor. Ron seemed to be sinking slightly, as though the hovering affect was losing its hold. He was deathly pale, and a small trickle of blood was pouring from his mouth, but his eyes were open and he blinked at her.

"Bella-la," Ron said in a sing-song voice, sitting up with a goofy grin on his face.

"Can you walk?" she asked him, trying to haul him to his feet. Ginny and Luna were trading blows with the final Death Eater.

"Look, Bella-la," Ron giggled, pointing towards the dueling spells. "Look at the pretty lights!"

"Is he okay?" Ginny shouted, blocking a curse.

"Come on, Ron," Isabella encouraged, heaving him to his feet and pushing him in front of her as she stumbled across the room. "RUN!"

Ginny Stunned the last Death Eater as the four of them turned and ran across the Solar System, trying to find another door.

Before they could reach it, however, Ginny screamed and toppled over. The Death Eater Ron had Disarmed was lying on the floor and he grabbed her foot as she ran by. Isabella winced at the resounding crack Ginny's ankle made.

"_REDUCTO!_" Luna shouted, pointing her wand at Pluto. The smallest of the planets exploded in the Death Eater's face and he let go of Ginny, clutching his burnt face in pain.

"Ginny! Ginny are you okay?" Isabella asked, bending over her hurt friend. A raven cawed loudly outside the far door and there were several voices shouting. "Can you walk?" she asked. Ginny tried to stand, then collapsed, shaking her head.

"Luna, you get Ron out," Isabella ordered, putting one of Ginny's arms around her own shoulders. "I'll help Ginny." The door on the far side of the room burst open and more Death Eaters rushed in. "HURRY!" Isabella yelled, holding tightly to Ginny and shouldering her way through the door.

They were back in the circular room, and the four of them tumbled out. Harry and Neville were there, the latter supporting an unconscious Hermione.

"Ron!" Harry croaked, dashing toward them. "Ginny - are you all -?"

"Harry," said Ron, giggling weakly, lurching forward, seizing the front of Harry's t-shirt and gazing at him with unfocused eyes. "There you are... ha ha ha... you look funny, Harry... you're all messed up..." Ron's knees gave out, but he still clutched Harry's shirt, so that Harry was forced into a kind of bow.

"Ginny?" Harry said fearfully. "What happened?" But Isabella had let go of Ginny and the smaller girl shook her head and sank down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle.

"I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack," Isabella whispered, leaning over her.

"Four of them chased us into a very dark room full of planets," Luna told Harry. "It was a very odd place, we were just floating in the dark -"

"Harry, we saw Uranus up close!" said Ron, still giggling feeble. "Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus - ha ha ha -"

"- anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny's foot, I used the Reductor Curse and blew up Pluto in his face, but..." Luna gestured hopelessly at Isabella and Ginny. Ginny was breathing shallowly, her eyes still closed.

"And what about Ron?" said Harry fearfully, as Ron continued to giggle, still hanging onto the front of Harry's shirt.

"I don't know what they hit him with," said Isabella sadly. "But we could hardly get him along at all."

"Harry," said Ron, pulling Harry's ear down to his mouth and still giggling weakly. "You know who this girl is, Harry? She's Bella-la... and that's Looney Lovegood... ha ha ha." Isabella's dark eyes flashed in annoyance, but she ignored the babbling Ron and focused on his sister instead.

"We've got to get out of here," said Harry.

"I can help Ginny," Isabella offered.

"No, I want you free," Harry said firmly. Isabella met his eye and nodded. "Luna, can you help Ginny?"

"Yes," said Luna, sticking her wand behind her ear for safekeeping, then putting her arm around Ginny's waist and pulling her up.

"It's only my ankle, I can do it myself!" said Ginny impatiently, but the next moment she had collapsed sideways and grabbed Luna for support. Harry pulled Ron's arm over his shoulder and looked around before heaving Ron towards a door.

A door across the room burst open and three Death Eaters sped in, led by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"_There they are!_" she shrieked. Isabella shot a Stunning spell at her, but it deflected and hit another on of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix aimed a spell at Neville, but Isabella threw up a Shield Charm and protected Neville as he dragged Hermione toward the door. Bellatrix turned her attention on Isabella with a snarl and they began to duel. Isabella shot every spell, hex, and jinx she could think of at Bellatrix, and barely managed to avoid the curses the Death Eater shot back.

"Bella! Get out of there!" Harry shouted from the door. Bellatrix blinked at the name, and Isabella dove for the shelter of the door. Harry slammed the door in Bellatrix's face.


	28. A Desperate Bid

"_Colloportus!_" shouted Harry, and Isabella heard three bodies slam into the door on the other side.

"It doesn't matter!" said a man's voice. "There are other ways in - WE'VE GOT THEM, THEY'RE HERE!" Isabella, who had tripped over a desk and fallen to the floor in her haste, righted herself and saw that they were in the Brain Room: the room with doors all around the walls.

"Luna - Neville - Bella - help me!" Harry yelled as the sound of footsteps running came through the walls. The four of them tore around the room, sealing doors as they went:

"_Colloportus!_" Isabella shouted, using the charm Harry had said. There were footsteps running all along behind the doors, every now and then another heavy body would launch itself against one, so that is creaked and shuddered. Isabella had almost reached the top of the room - there were only a few doors left...

"_Collo-_" The door slammed open and Luna screamed as she was hurled backwards through the air. She flew across the room, hit a desk, slid over its surface and on to the floor on the other side where she law sprawled.

"Get Potter!" shrieked Bellatrix, and she ran at him; he dodged her and sprinted back up the room.

"Hey!" said Ron, who had staggered to his feet and was now tottering drunkenly towards Harry, giggling. "Hey, Harry there are _brains_ in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird, Harry?"

"Ron, get out of the way!" Isabella screamed from her hiding place behind a desk. "Get down-!" But Ron had already pointed his wand at the tank.

"Honest, Harry, they're brains - look - _Accio brain_!" Isabella craned her neck out from under the desk and watched the top of the tank as a brain burst from the green liquid like a leaping fish: for a moment it seemed suspended in midair, then it soared towards Ron, spinning as it came, and what looked like ribbons of moving images flew from it, unravelling.

"Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it -" said Ron, watching it fly towards it. "Harry, come and touch it; bet it's weird -"

"RON, NO!" Harry and Isabella shouted together. Harry darted forward but Ron had already caught the brain in his outstretched hands. The moment they made contact with his skin, the tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron's arms like ropes.

"Harry, look what's happening - No -no - I don't like it - no, stop - _stop_ -" But the thin ribbons were spinning around Ron's chest now; he tugged and tore at them as the brain was pulled tight against him like an octopus's body.

"_Diffindo!_" yelled Harry, trying to sever the feelers wrapping themselves tightly around Ron, but they would not break. Isabella darted out to try and help as Ron fell over, still thrashing against his bonds.

"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" screamed Ginny, immobilized by her broken ankle on the floor. Then a jet of red light flew from one of the Death Eater's wands and hit her squarely in the face. She keeled over sideways and lay there unconscious.

"_STUBEFY_!" shouted Neville, wheeling around and waving his borrowed wand at the oncoming Death Eaters. "_STUBEFY, STUBEFY_!" Isabella was not sure if it was his wand, his nerves, or his stuffed-up voice that was keeping anything from happening.

One of the Death Eaters shot their own Stunning spell at Neville; it missed him by inches. Isabella, Harry, and Neville were the only two left fighting the five Death Eaters. Isabella had toppled over a desk and was using it as a barricade, but one of the Death Eaters shot a stream of silver light at it.

"BELLA!" Harry bellowed. She rolled out into the open just in time; the jet of light hit the desk and burned a crater into it. Harry held the prophecy over his head and sprinted back up the room. The Death Eaters followed him, leaving Isabella and Neville alone. They knocked desks and chairs flying but did not dare to bewitch Harry in case they hurt the prophecy. Harry vanished through the open door and Isabella winced to hear a series of thumps. It sounded like Harry had fallen down a staircase.

"Are you all ride?" Neville asked her thickly. Isabella nodded and stood, watching the last Death Eaters follow Harry through the door.

"We should go with him," she said determinedly.

"Wad aboud Ron?" Neville asked, nodding toward where Ron lay on the floor. Isabella looked at him, then pointed her wand carefully at the brain.

"_Obliviate_," she said. The constricting ribbons let go of Ron and zipped back into the brain, their ends snapping.

"Dat wad really cleber," Neville said admiringly.

"Well, it _is _a brain," Isabella said nudging it away from Ron with her foot. She ran with Neville, dodging fallen desks and leaping over upset chairs, following Harry.

The door led to the amphitheater-like room, where the archway still commanded the dais. Harry was standing on the raised platform, all of the Death Eaters situated below, looking up at him hungrily. Harry still clutched the prophecy to his chest.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," Lucius Malfoy was drawling. He had taken off the skull mask the Death Eaters wore and had his hand extended toward Harry. "You see, there are ten of us and only one of you... or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?:

"He's not alone!" Isabella shouted from the top of the stairs. "He's got us!" The two of them jumped down the steps on at a time as half a dozen wands turned on them.

"Neville - Bella - no - go back to Ron -" Harry tried to tell them.

"_STUBEFY_!" Neville shouted again, pointing his wand at a Death Eater. Nothing happened. Isabella's heart sank, but she aimed her own wand at a Lucius Malfoy.

"_Stupe-_" she began, but Malfoy interrupted her with a wave of his own wand.

"_Expeliarmus_," he said, and Isabella's wand slipped from her grasp and clattered across the room. One of the largest Death Eaters seized Neville from behind, pinioning his arm to his sides. He struggled and kicked; several of the Death Eaters laughed.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" sneered Lucius Malfoy. "And Miss Petrroci... whatever will your grandfather say?" Isabella could feel someone sneaking up on her, trying to capture her as they had Neville. She slipped from his grasp and darted around Malfoy, as quick as a fish. Several Stunners hit the ground at her heels, but she felt that if she could just make it through the arch...

She tripped and fell, her hand just brushing the interior curve of the stone arch. As her fingers brushed against it, she sprawled on the ground and moved no more.


	29. Lupin

Lupin jumped through the darting bodies and the flashes of light. He leapt onto the dais, sending a Stunning curse at Rookwood as he did. Not checking to see if it made contact, Lupin stooped over the motionless girl. Her arm was still stretched towards the veil, and her fingers were a breath away from the arch.

Mad-Eye was nearby, covering for Lupin as the man bent over the girl. He turned her on her side and groaned. It was Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan, one of his best students for the brief year he had been a professor. Lupin fumbled at her wrist, trying to feel a pulse, when Mad-Eye gave a cry and fell over, bleeding from the head. His electric blue eye spun across the floor. Lupin did not have anymore time; he stood and began to duel with a masked Death Eater, leaping off the dais.

Sending his opponent away reeling, Lupin turned in time to see Lucius Malfoy being blasted through the air. He smashed into the dais near where Isabella's body lay. Sirius and Bellatrix were dueling on the other side of the archway.

Malfoy had raised his wand and aimed it at Harry, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them.

"Harry, round up the others and GO!" Lupin ordered, sending a spell at Malfoy. The jet of light hit the stone dais and the rock crumbled away. Malfoy countered and leapt to his feet. Lupin kept dueling with Malfoy until he caught sight of a familiar figure, tall and thin. Lupin broke away as Dumbledore, his face white and furious, sent a spell that wrapped around the fleeing Malfoy and pulled him into a steadily growing group of Death Eaters, tied together by invisible bonds.

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Lupin watched as Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light; he was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet hit him squarely in the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall; his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.

Lupin saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his best friend's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place. Lupin listened to Bellatrix's triumphant scream.

"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!" He ran down the stairs, making for the dais. Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry -" Lupin tried to tell him, his own heart breaking.

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!" Harry protested, struggling against his hold.

"- it's too late, Harry," Lupin was trying to hold back his own tears in order to comfort Harry.

"We can still reach him -" Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin held him tighter.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."

"He hasn't gone!" Harry yelled. Lupin wished Harry could believe it, for with every scream, with every denial, Lupin felt the wound in his heart tear a little more.

"SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed desperately. "SIRIUS!"

"He can't come back, Harry," said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. "He can't come back, because he's d-"

"HE - IS - NOT - DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!" Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais, ignoring the hurt and betrayed looks Harry occasionally threw at him in between staring at the archway. It was all Lupin could do not to stare at the veil as well, waiting for Sirius to come back... to laugh at him and call him Mooney... to joke about his furry little problem...

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, immobilized. Mad-Eye had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts and cries - Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix.

Harry had finally stopped struggling, and stood still, looking lost and dazed. Lupin maintained a firm grip on his arm nevertheless.

"Harry?" Neville Lonbottom, his legs twitching with some curse, slid down the steps toward them. "Harry... I'b really sorry... Was dad man - was Sirius Black a - a friend of yours?" Harry nodded.

"Here," said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, "_Finite_." The spell was lifted: Neville's legs fell back to the floor and remained still.

"Let's - let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?" Lupin turned from the archway as he spoke.

"Dey're all back dere," said Neville. "A brain addacked Ron, bud I dink he's all righd... Bella god id off him. Id... id she OK?"

There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Lupin saw Kingsley hit the ground yelling pain; Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it; she was halfway up the stairs by now.

"Harry - no!" cried Lupin as Harry ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grasp.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry, taking off after Bellatrix. "SHE KILLED HIM - I'LL KILL HER!" Lupin shouted and made to follow, but Neville grabbed his sleeve and was pulling on it insistently.

"Id she dead?" Neville asked, tears in his eyes. Lupin blinked, forgetting for a moment who Neville was talking about. "Id Bella dead?"

Dumbledore had gone after Harry; there was really nothing Lupin could do there. But Isabella still lay at the foot of the archway, her hand extended in a final, desperate bid for safety.

Lupin went over to her and Kingsley, limping slightly, joined him. Kingsley picked up her limp, white wrist and waited for a moment.

"She's alive... I think," he said slowly. Lupin started slightly, astonished but pleased. He took off his long cloak and put it gently over the girl's cold body. Her eyes moved slightly beneath her eyelids.

"She needs Dumbledore," Lupin said, looking towards the door Harry had run through, Dumbledore close behind him.

Lupin carried Isabella up the stairs, still wrapped in his cloak. Neville led the members of the Order of the Phoenix back into the brain room. Hermione still lay on the floor, but Luna and Ron were stirring feebly. Ginny was fully conscious and upset.

"What happened?" Tonks asked, kneeling next to Ginny.

"I'd like to ask that myself," she said, still clutching her swollen and bruised ankle. "Harry came through not two minutes ago, chasing that Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Can you walk?" Tonks asked. Ginny shook her head, clearly frustrated.

"It's broken," she said. She caught sight of Lupin and his still burden and her face paled considerably.

"Is she...?"

"No, but we need to get her to Dumbledore," Lupin told her. "Which way did they go?" Ginny pointed back to the door that led to the circular room. Kingsley picked up Hermione while Tonks and Mad-Eye collected Ron and Luna. They could both walk, but Ginny leaned considerably on the crutch Mad-Eye conjured for her.

Their ragged and wounded group limped out into the circular room and closed the door behind them. The walls rotated swiftly and then came to a gliding stop.

"Exit?" Lupin asked in a tired voice. One of the doors swung open and they trooped out through it. Mad-Eye poked the button of the lifts viciously, as though it had caused him great personal injury. A lift clattered down to them and the golden grilles opened loudly.

Lupin looked around at their sorry group, assessing the overall damage. Mad-Eye still had a cut on his head, but if there was anything else, he wasn't saying; Tonks was still pale and she leant tiredly against the wall of the lift. Kingsley was breathing hard and limping heavily, greatly favoring his right leg; Ginny was not much better, hobbling along as best she could. Luna was pale and there was a sizable bump on the back of her skull, but she stood straight and tall. Neville's nose was about twice its normal size and swollen. Ron was slouched, still white as a sheet with the dark trickle of blood carving a line down his chin, but his giggles were subsiding gradually. Hermione had obviously received the brunt of a pretty nasty curse.

But Isabella was in the worst shape. She felt so very small and frail in Lupin's arms and her breath so quiet that he kept checking her pulse to make sure the she was still alive. According to Neville, Isabella had been running for the archway and had barely touched the veil. Lupin shivered, knowing that most people who made contact with the archway were not so lucky. In fact, all of them were dead.

"The Atrium," the cool female voice announced as the lift clattered to a halt and they climbed off. There were voices echoing through the hall, the floor reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall. Streams of witches and wizards were pouring from these, staring around the room. The fountain had been blasted apart, the wizard's large golden head lay on the ground at Dumbledore's feet.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the golden head and it glowed blue for a few seconds and trembled noisily against the wooden floor, then became still once more.

Dumbledore picked up the head and walked towards Harry, who was miraculously unhurt, if still pale and dejected. Fudge was obviously flustered, speaking rapidly with his hands fluttering around him like nervous birds.

The minister's voice faltered and fell silent as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.

"I can give you..." Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands out of his pocket and surveyed it "...half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what had happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."

"I - you -" Fudge spluttered, but Dumbledore turned his back on him.

"Take this Portkey, Harry." He held out the golden head of the statue and Harry placed his hand on it.

"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly. "One... two... three..." Harry vanished with the golden head still held tightly to him. Dumbledore turned back to the still spluttering Fudge but before he could speak someone wailed.

A woman, tall and beautiful with thick dark hair pushed her way through the crowd. Her skin was olive-toned and her eyes dark. She wore a purple and gold dressing gown and her hair had clearly been braided back for the night.

"Questa e la mia figlia!" she wailed rushing to Lupin and pulling Isabella from his arms. She folded to the floor, rocking the girl gently, tears splashing onto Isabella's still face. "Mia Bella!" And she began to keen and wail piteously, babbling in Italian. Lupin stood awkwardly but Dumbledore's face was grave as he swooped down over Antonia Petrroci and her daughter.


	30. The InBetween Place

Isabella was in an old courtyard, sitting cross legged on the flagstone floor, her fingers twining around the grass that poked up around the warm stones. The sun was not actually visible, but the sky was blue and clear and the courtyard warm. She was very sleepy and a little bored.

She had already walked around the courtyard several times. There were two doorways, standing directly across the courtyard from each other. One of them was a crumbling archway with a tattered black veil hanging over it. Isabella believed the only reason the arch still stood was the surrounding wall. She had pulled back the veil several times and tried to see was was behind it, but on the other side of the threshold was a impenetrable black wall. It was terrifying, but intriguing at the same time.

The other doorway was set in a smooth, new archway. It was small and heavy set, plain wooden boards held together by thick iron pegs. Isabella had tried the door, but found it locked and unmoving.

There was a small breeze that flowed continuously, over the rooftops and through the veiled archway. The walls were flat and whitewashed; no helpful, climbable ivy grew along the wall.

In the middle of the courtyard was a marble fountain, that splashed its water in a lively manner. Isabella was leaning against the side of this fountain, her eyes closed and her face relaxed. The bottom of the fountain had blue and green mosaic tiles the shimmered and glittered with the dancing light.

She stood once more and ambled around the perimeter of the courtyard, her hand lightly tracing along the gleaming white walls. Isabella looked up, her mouth set in a puzzled frown at the lack of windows. They should have been set in the tops of the walls, just under the shade of the red tiled roof.

Her walk brought her to the stone arch again. She pulled aside the ripped fabric and looked through at the void beyond. Isabella extended her hand and then drew it back again fearfully. The vast darkness scared her, though she didn't know why.

"Isabella, what are you doing here?" a deep, gentle voice asked. The girl turned and saw Albus Dumbledore standing opposite her, just to the side of the locked door.

"I don't know," she admitted, looking back through the arch.

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed, as though this explained everything. He was wearing a set of magenta robes with golden crescent moons stamped all over it. The tall man strode across the courtyard and pulled Isabella's elbow firmly. She allowed herself to be tugged away from the veiled archway, turning wondering eyes on Dumbledore.

"How did you get through that door?" she asked curiously.

"What door?" he inquired innocently.

"That one, right there," said Isabella, pointing at the wooden door. Dumbledore followed her gaze and beamed, his blue eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles.

"This makes things easier," he said mysteriously. "Isabella, do you know where we are?"

"Of course." Isabella had not really thought about it, but now she realized suddenly. "We're in Padua."

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded and looked around as though on a pleasant day trip. His eyes fell on the fountain and he moved closer, as though to examine it. "Did you drink any of this water?" he asked, pulling out his wand.

"No," Isabella said, following him. Dumbledore dipped the tip of his wand in the water, but nothing happened, save that the surface of the water rippled gently.

"Most interesting," Dumbledore said, pocketing his wand. Isabella did not think this interesting at all: she had been sitting in this courtyard for a while and nothing had happened.

"So." He sat on the edge of the fountain and patted the stone beside him. She sat also and looked up at him. "Do you wish to go on?"

"On where?" she asked, confused.

"Beyond," he said simply. Isabella chewed her lip and looked back over her shoulder; the veil fluttered invitingly, its tattered fingers beckoning her forward.

"Or you could go back," Dumbledore suggested. Isabella looked back up at him and frowned slightly.

"Back?" she asked vaguely.

"You don't remember?" Dumbledore asked, his voice a little sad and worried. Isabella shook her head; she could only remember a few hours ago when she had woken up dressed in clean undyed robes.

"Think, Isabella, think!" he urged. But Isabella could not think... every thought slipped away just when her mind began to grab hold of it.

"Where are we?" Dumbledore asked again, a little bit more insistent this time.

"Padua," she said again. He gestured for her to continue. "The city of waters."

"Why is it called that?"

"The legendary properties of the water," the words flowed unbidden or thought of to Isabella's lips. "The city was the first to be founded in Northern Italy. It became a center of commerce. Wizards moved with the Muggles and brought their goddess, Hecate, with them."

"Yes, and...?"

"One of these families was the Petrroci's..." her voice trailed away and an image of her family burst into her mind, as though escaping from behind a locked door. "They founded a villa..." A grand country home replaced the picture of her family "... where my mother was born." Antonia Petrroci, smiling happily, stood there with a tray full of Christmas cookies. "She married my father... who... who..." Isabella closed her eyes and put her head in her hands, overwhelmed by a rush of memories and images.

She saw her mother and father, Portia and Castro, Alex and Morgan, Luna and Cho, Fred and George, Harry and Ron, Neville and Ginny, Terry and Hermione. She saw Hogwarts and Villa Petrroci. She saw her father's cottage. She saw the Room of Requirement and the DA. She saw the great lion she had conjured in that very last meeting...

"How do I get back?" she asked, her dark eyes flying open.

"You say that we are in Padua?" Dumbledore asked yet again. She nodded, and he stood up. "Then the water is somehow important." Isabella stood as well and turned to look down at the clear water.

"You drink it," she realized suddenly. No sooner had the words left her mouth than two water goblets appeared on the rim of the fountain. Dumbledore picked his up and filled it from the basin. He lifted it to her, as though toasting her. Isabella picked hers up and held it under the steady flow of water. It filled and she lifted it up, gazing over its brim toward the archway.

"Another time," Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder. Isabella did not really want to leave the courtyard; it was warm and light and peaceful here. If she went back, there would be pain and the bitterness of mortality, but there would also be her family and friends, who were probably waiting for her...

"Is this real?" Isabella asked Dumbledore, who was still holding his cup aloft. "Or has this been happening inside my head?" Dumbledore looked back at her, his face inscrutable.

"It _is _happening inside your head," Dumbledore said slowly, as though deciding his words were true as he spoke them. "But why on earth should that mean that it isn't real?"

Isabella looked back at the archway and continued to gaze at it as she took a small sip of water.


	31. Alive Again

She opened her eyes in the hospital wing. There was steady murmur of voices around her, as though a great many people were there. Isabella blinked, looking out the window at the golden evening sky.

Someone chuckled nearby. Isabella turned her head on the pillow an saw Dumbledore, wearing the same magenta robes she had seen in her dream, sitting beside her.

"Welcome back," he said softly. Isabella thought about sitting up, but that idea didn't make it from her head to her body before she was engulfed in a tight embrace. The exotic scent identified her mother, who was babbling Italian in her ear. Isabella sorted through the words, half-lecture and half-relief, trying to figure out what had happened.

Her mother stood back and touched her face tenderly, dark eyes still showing traces of their former terror. Isabella tried to smile back, but she was yet again embraced tightly. Her father sat on the bed, hugging her body tightly to him and giving a lecture that was almost identical to her mother's, save that it was in English.

"How dare you leave school, Isabella Petrroci O'Reagan! Off on some misguided quest to save a known felon, with other schoolchildren, for Christ's sake! How could you do this to us? We thought you were dead, everyone thought you were dead, and we've all been worried sick! Your mother cried for hours and said the rosary fifty times, your Grandfather had to be written...!"

"Grandfather?" Isabella asked, her voice hoarse and her lips cracking slightly as she spoke. "Is he here?"

"Dumbledore said it wasn't necessary, but can you imagine what would have happened... God knows if he'll let you come back next year! You nearly ruined all your mother's work! But thank goodness you're alive!" With that he hugged her again and allowed her to lay back down. Dumbledore's brilliant blue eyes were twinkling slightly.

Something warm was sitting on Isabella's stomach. She lifted her head slightly and saw Portia's wide golden eyes glaring at her accusingly.

"You too, huh?" she asked, petting the kneazle's head. Portia purred and leaned into her hand, allowing her chin to be scratched thoroughly.

Dumbledore left Isabella to her reunions, but she was quiet and troubled a great deal of the time, only half-listening to her parents and friends. Alex and Morgan had come in and sat on her bed for about thirty minutes. Isabella had fallen asleep with them there and woken sheepishly a few hours later to find them gone.

In their place, however, was Castro. The augury fluttered to her pillow and perched there, preening her hair gently. It felt nice, so Isabella didn't try to stop him. There was a large package sitting on the table at the end of the bed.

"Did you bring this, mia bella?" she asked, stroking the bird's green feathers. He opened his mouth in a silent cry of agreement. Isabella managed to sit up by grabbing the head board with her hands and pulling herself upright. The cardboard box was labeled: "Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Shop." Isabella smiled happily; Florean was her father's godfather and was very fond of his family.

She opened the box, unsealing the freezing charm that had been placed upon it.

"Cioccolato geltato," she told Castro, picking up a small tub of chocolate ice cream. There was a spoon with it and she dug in gratefully, not wanting to wait for the ice cream to melt.

"I see you are remembered," someone laughed softly. Isabella looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore striding towards her, resplendent in midnight blue. She blushed and made to put away the ice cream, but Dumbledore held up his hands.

"By all means, continue," he told her. "Fortesque's ice cream is famous, and it would be a shame to let it melt." Isabella spooned up a little more gelato and ate in silence; Dumbledore seated himself by her bed and seemed perfectly content to wait for her to speak first.

"Where was I?" was her first question. "Was I really in Padua?"

"Ah, that is a very excellent question," said Dumbledore. He leant forward and placed the tips of his fingers together. "And one I am not sure it is possible to answer. Were we in Padua? I must say yes, because then there would not have been the water and without the water there would have been no way back. But I must also say no, for we were in your mind." Isabella scowled; she did not like complicated and riddling answers.

"Fine," she said sulkily. "But how did I get there? I remember touching the archway in the Department of Mysteries... and then waking up in the courtyard."

"You died," Dumbledore said simply. Isabella stared at him, her spoon held loosely in her hand. "Oh yes, you died. Or rather, you passed beyond the world of the living."

"The door..." Isabella recalled quietly.

"Had you been able to force your way through that, I think you would have found yourself back here," he explained, rather kindly. "It was not locked, as you supposed. But it could only be opened from one side. Once beyond, there was very little chance of you making it back out."

"But if I was dead...?"

"I believe there is a particularly enjoyable Muggle book with the phrase 'mostly dead'," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "You had simply to step through the archway and your spirit would be in the land of the dead and unable to return to your body."

"I don't understand," Isabella said with a puzzled frown.

"I'm afraid I don't particularly understand either," Dumbledore shrugged, as though this was not a very troubling fact. They sat quietly for a little while, listening to the sounds of other patients breathing deeply.

"Why was I drawn to that veil?" she asked. "Luna and Harry could hear voices, but I could not."

"Tell me what you saw in the arch."

"Darkness and a void," Isabella said immediately; she could still see the arch when she closed her eyes. "But it was beautiful, so beautiful and ancient."

"Ah." Isabella looked at him sharply, wanting him to explain his only reply. He shook his head with a smile. "No, I've no idea what led you to that arch. But I must warn you," he grew very serious, "That I do not believe these feelings toward the archway will cease. You must never go near it again, for I fear what might happen. It is entrancing to many, but it seems to have a particularly strong hold over you."

"I understand," Isabella said, recognizing that Dumbledore did not mean to go near to it literally (it was highly unlikely she would ever enter the Department of Mysteries again) but also that she must not dwell on the arch in her mind. They fell silent once more. Isabella held out her spoon and the tub of ice cream.

"Gelato?" she offered. Dumbledore chuckled and accepted.


	32. Just beyond the veil

Isabella lay on her bed and listened to Hermione reading an article from the _Daily Prophet_.

"_Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the "Boy Who Lived" -_

"There you are Harry, I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," said Hermione, looking over the top of the paper at him.

Harry was sitting on the end of Ron's bed and Ginny, whose ankle had been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione's bed. Neville, whose nose had likewise been returned to its original size and shape, was in a chair between Isabella and Hermione's beds. Luna, who had dropped in for a visit, clutching the latest edition of _The Quibbler_, was reading the magazine upside-down as she sat on Isabella's bed, not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

"He's the "Boy Who Lived" again now, though, isn't he?" said Ron darkly. "Not such a deluded show-off any more, eh?" He helped himself to a handful of Chocolate Frogs from the immense pile on his bedside cabinet, threw a few to Harry, Ginny, Isabella, and Neville and ripped off the wrapper of his own with his teeth. There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything else, though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction (inspired by Isabella's success with the Memory Modifying Charm) there seemed to have been some improvement.

"Yeas, they're very complimentary about you now, Harry," said Hermione, scanning down the article. "_A lone voice of truth... perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story... forced to bear ridicule and slander..._"

"I notice they don't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering in the _Prophet_," Isabella pointed out quietly. She had received no major physical or magical damage, but Dumbledore had insisted she stay in order for her mind to recuperate.

Hermione read down the newspaper and threw it aside with a scathing remark about the "Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter".

"Daddy sold it to them," said Luna vaguely, turning a page of _The Quibbler_. "He got a very good price for it, too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer to see if we can catch a crumple-horned snorkak."

"That's fantastic," Isabella said warmly, knowing how much Luna had wanted to go looking for the mythical creature.

"So, anyway," said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter and wincing. "What's going on in school?"

"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny. "He did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off -"

"Why?" said Hermione, looking startled.

"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George," said Ron, through a mouthful of chocolate. "They sent me all these, you know," he told them, pointing at the small mountain of frogs beside him. "Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?"

"Did they send the incantation to put up the swamp?" Isabella asked, a little disappointed.

"No, they - what?" Ron asked, his mouth gaping open and revealing a mash of chocolate.

"How did you know there was an incantation to put up the swamp?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I - well," she blushed as all eyes, save Luna's, turned towards her. "Oh, all right. I knew the spell all along. Fred and George showed me before they set it off. I just wanted to see Umbridge suffer."

All seven of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," whispered Hermione.

"Sulking, more like," said Ginny.

"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.

"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.

"No... no..." said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows. "No, I must have been dreaming..." Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes while Luna and Isabella shared tired smiles.

The others fell into a conversation about Divination teacher and prophecies, while Isabella allowed her attention to wander. Her eyes drifted to the window and its tall peak reminded her irresistibly of the archway. She only snapped back to the present when Harry stood suddenly and abruptly said goodbye.

After a while Neville and Ginny left and Ron drifted off to sleep, his mouth hanging open slightly and a struggling chocolate frog still trapped in his hand. Luna folded her copy of _The Quibbler_ and put it in her pocket.

"So," she said conversationally. "What did Dumbledore tell you about the veil?" Isabella blinked, and roused herself slightly with a nervous shifting of weight.

"Uh..." she hesitated, not sure how much she should tell Luna. Hermione was looking on curiously and Luna's large eyes were staring at her expectantly. Isabella suddenly remembered that Luna could see the Thestrals.

"Who was it?" Isabella asked abruptly. "Who did you see die?"

"My mother," Luna said simply. "She was quite an extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day."

"I'm sorry," said Isabella, immediately regretting asking. But now that she knew about it, she felt that she could tell Luna about the veil. "But it's not as though you'll never see her again, is it?"

"Er - isn't it?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Isabella shook her head, keeping her dark eyes locked on Luna's.

"They are there, just beyond the veil," Isabella told her.

"You mean..."

"In the room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that's all," she explained to Luna. "You heard them." Luna's face was impassive for a moment, then the tiniest of smiles tugged the corners of her lips.

"Are you sure?" she asked, sounding slightly hopeful.

"I was there," Isabella assured her.

"Did you see them?" Isabella hesitated, then shook her head.

"I din't go all the way through the arch," she explained. Luna seemed satisfied by this; she stood, gave Isabella and Hermione a little wave, then turned and skipped down the length of the ward.


	33. Alessandro Petrroci

Isabella stepped out from the magical barrier that separated Platform nine and three-quarters from the rest of King's Cross station. She saw an odd group of people standing with Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Isabella recognized Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody, but she did not know the others. Her attention was largely taken up by her parents and a young man who stood with them.

She walked towards them quickly, finally breaking into a run and dropping her trunk. The man, who shared her dark features, swept her up in a hug and spun her around.

"There's my little basilisk!" he laughed, setting her back down and ruffling her hair.

"Ale!" she smiled, giving her cousin another hug. Alessandro grinned and slung an arm around her shoulders. He was about a foot taller than her and, judging from the looks her female classmates were casting his way, roguishly handsome.

"Still in one piece," he commented, looking her over. "Which, from what I hear, is quite a feat. What's this about you taking on the English Ministry?" She gave him a playful shove and blushed.

"I don't know who's been telling you such ridiculous stories," said Isabella.

"Well, you'll have to tell us the true version," he said, his smile slipping. Alessandro gave her a meaningful look, "All of us, Bella." She sighed, thinking of standing in grandfather's study and describing her actions. Then she thought about explaining to Great-Aunt Guilia that she had had a boyfriend; an_ English _boyfriend.

Remus Lupin, her former Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, detached himself from the group around Harry and came to join the four of them. He gave her a tired smile and shook hands with her father. Isabella blushed; she had been told that Lupin had carried her from the Department of Mysteries.

"Patrick, Antonia," Lupin greeted her parents wearily. Antonia embraced Lupin and kissed his cheek fondly; she remembered the man who had returned her daughter. Alessandro stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Alessandro Petrroci," he introduced himself. "I don't think I've had the pleasure...?"

"Remus Lupin," the older man said, shaking her cousin's hand. "I was Isabella's teacher a few years ago."

"She told me wonderful things about you, sir," Alessandro confirmed with an easy smile. Lupin seemed a little surprised and tentatively returned the smile. It was not often that he was greeted as a friend in the wizarding world; especially among those who knew what he was. Isabella watched the exchange with a hidden smile; Alessandro had a certain way with people. That was how he had gotten his place in Auror training in the Italian Ministry.

"I can't express how grateful we are," her mother interrupted, laying a hand on Lupin's arm.

"The goodwill and welcome of the Petrroci family is also extended toward you," Alessandro added formally. Isabella looked up at him curiously, for it sounded as though he was reciting a message from Grandfather. "If you have need of anything, it will be rendered by our family."

By this point Lupin was looking a little overwhelmed and he murmured his thanks with evident embarrassment.

"This girl is very special to us," Alessandro waved aside the older man's professions of unworthiness. "Even if she is a basilisk." Isabella punched her cousin's arm and he gave Lupin a roguish grin and put Isabella in a headlock, ruffling her dark brown hair.

"Come on, you two," her mother sighed. "We're expected in Italy tonight."

Alessandro and her father picked up her trunk between them and Isabella lifted Portia's hamper. Castro perched on her shoulder and hooted at Lupin silently as they passed. Halfway down the track, Isabella turned and looked back.

Harry caught her eye and grinned. Hermione and Ron turned as well and waved goodbye. Luna, standing near a very odd, lost-looking man, gave Isabella a sad little wave. Morgan and Alex, each with their own families, made gestures of writing letters. Isabella spared one hand to wave back at them, smiling at Neville, before turning and following her family.

AN: And that, my friends, is that. Unless, of course, there's a sequel...


End file.
